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COPVRIGirr DEPOSIT. 



A TEXT-BOOK ^ 



IN THE 



PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 



BY 



ERNEST NORTON HENDERSON, Ph.D. 

PROFESSOR OF EDUCATION AND PHILOSOPHY 
IN ADELPHI COLLEGE, BROOKLYN 



THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

1910 

All rights reserved 



v3 



% 



A"^ 



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Copyright, 1910, 

By the macmillan company. 



Set up and electrotyped. Published November, igio. 



NctiDOOl! iPtws 
J. 8. Gushing Co. — Berwiclc & Smith Co. 

Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. 



'CI.A2754iJ2 



I DEDICATE THIS VOLUME 
TO MY WIFE 



PREFACE 

In the following pages I have endeavored to present in a 
systematic way the outlines of a theory of education from the 
point of view of evolution. The evolutionary conception has 
been applied to educational theory more or less consistently 
by all writers on the subject since the time of Froebel. The 
development of more and more scientific knowledge in regard 
to the history of life, of mind, and of society has, however, 
made possible constant reconstruction of the general princi- 
ples, in terms of which the process of evolution through edu- 
cation is to be conceived. I have tried to draw into a unified 
scheme what seem to me the essential features of current 
thought on this subject to-day. 

To accomplish this result in anything like an adequate 
manner, and at the same time make those practical applica- 
tions of principles which a book on the " Principles of Edu- 
cation " may be expected to offer, it has been necessary to 
give to certain fundamental conceptions a very condensed 
and, I fear, somewhat abstract treatment. Such is especially 
the case in the chapter on " Conscious Learning," which, had 
space been clearly available, I should gladly have expanded 
by the addition of more illustration. In the chapter on 
" Readjustment, its Meaning, Conditions, and Methods," I 
have given the essential features of my theory of evolution. 
To the schoolman interested primarily in practice this may 
seem like a somewhat formidable introduction to so practical 
a subject as the Principles of Education should be. I am, 
however, convinced that the conceptions there presented form 
the clew to at least one fundamental aspect of the meaning of 
the process of education, — i.e. its part in the mechanics of 



viii Preface 

evolution. It is, moreover, upon these conceptions that the 
later more practical phases of the treatment turn. I hope, 
therefore, that the reader interested in the "practical" will 
not lose heart too soon. 

Since the conception of evolution plays so important a 
part in the discussion, I have of necessity treated mind, con- 
science, and, indeed, all the higher powers of the individual 
from the " functional " or utilitarian point of view. I have, 
however, tried to combine with this an idealistic interpreta- 
tion of the history of life, both in the individual and the race, 
which I trust will not escape attention for lack of emphasis. 
I am confident that in the long run Idealism cannot lose from 
the study of facts, and, while the trend of thought and prac- 
tice in educational matters to-day may seem discouraging to 
those who regard the higher culture as too precious to be put 
to use, it is not unlikely that a newer Idealism of service may 
prove on the whole a more satisfactory philosophy than the 
older one that consisted so much in withdrawal from the 
utilities. 

In the hope that the book may prove widely serviceable as 
a text on the principles of education, I have added a topical 
outline which appears as marginal notes. At the end I have 
offered a teacher's bibliography, which aims to give one or a 
few easily available references on each of the principal topics 
discussed in the text. 

The book is itself the result of the gradual evolution dur- 
ing the past ten years of an attempt on my part to treat the 
principles of education as an application of a conception of 
evolution. It began with the endeavor to draw together three 
significant biological facts : reproduction, the helpless period 
of infancy, and the lack of inheritance, at least to any appre- 
ciable degree, of acquired characters. The results of this bit 
of reflection are given in a short paper entitled " Some Prob- 
lems in Education and Evolution," published in the University 



Preface ix 

of California Publications in Philosophy, Vol. I, 1904. This 
paper constitutes the foundation of the ideas developed in 
the chapters on " Readjustment, its Meaning, Conditions, and 
Methods," and " Education and Heredity." The material of 
the other chapters has been slowly brought into the present 
form, and it is difficult to make acknowledgments to the many 
sources of influence that have determined its character. I 
wish, however, to thank the students and friends who during 
these years have, by their appreciative attitude and helpful 
criticisms, done very much toward making possible the publi- 
cation of the book. Especially I acknowledge my obligation 
to Professor Monroe, the editor of this series, for many valu- 
able suggestions in putting my material in its final form, and 
to my wife for her assistance toward that same end. 

Adelphi College, Brooklyn, 
May, 1910. 



TABLE OF CONTENTS 

CHAPTER I 

Introduction. Various Conceptions of the Aim of 
Education 

SECTION PAGE 

1 . The typical ideals of personal culture ..... I 

2. Efficiency versus personal culture as the educational aim . . i6 

PART I 

EDUCATION AS A FACTOR IN ORGANIC AND SOCIAL 
EVOLUTION 

CHAPTER II 
Readjustment, its Meaning, Conditions, and Methods 

3. Meaning and fundamental conditions of readjustment . . 27 

4. Environmental variability ........ 32 

5. The evolution of wants ........ 41 

6. Types of readjustment ........ 47 

7. The theory of infancy 61 

CHAPTER III 

Heredity and Education 

8. Differentiation of heredity and education 72 

9. Heredity as a basis for education . " 85 

10. Education as supplementing heredity ..... 96 

11. Education as antagonizing heredity ...... 99 

CHAPTER IV.' 
Education and Society 

12. Early evolution of social heredity ...... 109 

13. The rise of the school . . . . . . . .116 

14. Education and social control 124 

xi 



xii Table of Contents 

PART II 

THE PROCESS OF EDUCATION IN THE INDIVW 



Mor. 
h ?f!T . 

(IT . 



CHAPTER V 
The Conditions of Individual Development 

SECTION 

15. The problem of individual development 

16. Heredity and individual development 

17. Experimentation and selection . 

18. Consciousness and readjustment 

19. Habit and readjustment -j^ 

liri- 
CHAPTER VI 1 ' 

Recapitulation 

20. Various theories of recapitulation .^ 

21. Psycho-physiological recapitulation and education . . .169 

22. Cultural recapitulation . . . . . . . .183 

CHAPTER VII 
Learning by Trial and Error 

23. General notion of learning ....... 190 

24. The evolution of feeling ........ 194 

25. Perceptual readjustment 198 

CHAPTER VIII 

Conscious Learning 

26. Factors in conscious learning ....... 209 

27. The evolution of ideas 215 

28. The evolution of judgment 235 

CHAPTER IX 
The Education of the Reason 

29. General problem of educating the reason . . . . . ~ 't 

30. The accumulation of mental materials ..... 2">' 

31. The cultivation of the rational attitudes ? 



Table of Contents xiii 

CHAPTER X 
The Question of Formal Discipline 

PAGE 

ise of the conception of formal discipline .... 283 
deism of formal discipline by recent psychology . . . 294 
e theory of formal discipline as an educational principle . 309 

CHAPTER XI 
Imitation 
•neral function of imitation 



lo-physiological mechanism of imitation 
' cal effects of imitation 
.nechanism of imitation . 
ion in the history of education . 



318 
323 
331 
341 
351 



CHAPTER XII 
Language 

\o. Oral language and the development of thought .... 359 

^i. Social memory and written language . ..... 368 

\2. Education in language 375 

CHAPTER XIII 
Play 

^3. General theory of play 383 

44. The games of childhood 388 

4.5. The game in the history of education ..... 396 

1.6. Play in the education of the future 405 

PART III 

THE EDUCATIONAL AGENCIES 

CHAPTER XIV 
»j: Analysis of Educational Agencies 

'»«' The educational institutions 429 

The educational materials ........ 434 



xiv Table of Contents 

CHAPTER XV 
The Evolution of the School 

SECTION PACE 

49. The differentiation of the school 440 

50. The rise of academic freedom . 45 1 

51. Interdependence of the school and society 468 

CHAPTER XVI 
The Function of the School 

52. »The examination conception of education ..... 478 

53. The function of secondary education . ; . .. , . . 486 

54. The school as determinative of social heredity .... 496 

CHAPTER XVII 
The Academic and the Practical 

55. The evolution of the academic ....... 502 

56. The reaction against the academic . . . . . • S13 

57. The ultimate end of education . 523 

CHAPTER XVIII 
Liberal and Vocational Education 

58. The evolution of liberal education ...... 535 

59. The rise of vocational training 540 

60. The function of education in a democracy ..... 550 

61. The ideal of education in a democracy 561 



TEXT-BOOK IN THE PRINCIPLES 
OF EDUCATION 



CHAPTER I 

INTRODUCTION : VARIOUS CONCEPTIONS OF THE AIM OF EDU- 
CATION 

Section i. The typical ideals of personal culture 

No one can formulate a theory of education except from the The concep- 

standpoint of a conception of its aim. Even though we em- p°o^cess of 

brace in our treatment those phases of the Hfe of lower animals education 

that foreshadow human education, our thinking will be domi- on the con- 



nated by the teleology manifest therein. Education every- ception of 

where has a function, and it is upon one's \dew of the nature of 

this function that not only his conception of the significance 

of the entire process, but also his analysis of its details, will 

largely depend. It will, therefore, be practically necessary for 

us to consider first of all the use in terms of which education 

can most accurately be conceived. 

In general, the aims of human education can be grouped Thetwoiead- 
imder two main headings: efficiency and personal culture, c^tureand 
These we commonly regard as the utihtarian and perfection- practical 

• • • • efficiency 

istic auns, associated respectively with the worldliness or the 
idealism of peoples or of teachers. They are not utterly 
divorced. It would be, perhaps, true to say that no age, 
however persistently it pursues the ideal of personal culture, 
fails to take account of its uses ; for the very devotion to this 
aim which is characteristic of the time makes it practically 
certain that the surest road to social recognition, and so the 

B I 



Principles of Edtication 



personal 
culture 



highest utility, will be found in an apparently non-utilitarian 
culture of the individual. Moreover, there is probably no 
utihtarianism so crass that it does not find some few activities 
worth while for their own sake, some few possessions that can 
be idealized and regarded as ends in themselves. 

Although it is doubtless impossible for any age to free itself 
entirely from utilitarianism or idealism, nevertheless, it may 
with justice be said that learned educationj^the education of 
the school, from the Middle Ages until the nineteenth century, 
The ideals of was dominated by the conception of personal culture. This 
ideal appeared in various forms. Stating the most important 
of these in their historic sequence, we have : (i) spiritual 
culture; (2) aristocratic, social, and aesthetic culture ; (3) uni- 
versal knowledge; (4) the perfectly disciplined mind ; (5) the 
adequate self-realization of the individual. A study of the 
growth of these aims reveals an evolution in which the factor 
of utility plays a constaatly increasing part. This fact and the 
reasons for it are sufficiently important to make it worth while 
to consider more carefully the specific nature of each ideal. 

(i) Spiritual Culture. — During the Middle Ages the ideal 
of learned education was predominantly religious. With the 
development of the Universities, it is true, the professions of 
law and medicine became provided for in the educational 
schem^. Nevertheless, the characteristic feature of the instruc- 
tion of the time was the rehgious purpose. The perfect life is 
conceived to be the fife of attention to purely spiritual things. 
Education is the purification of the spirit from the taint of 
earth. In the words of a leading scholar and thinker, a monk 
of the twelfth century, Hugo of St. Victor : — 



Mediaeval 
ideal of 
spiritual 
culture 



"The end and purpose of all human actions and pursuits 
which are controlled by reason ought to be this, that the integ- 
rity of our nature may be restored, or the constraint of those 
defects under which our present fife Hes be reHeved. More 



Various Conceptions of the Aim of Education 3 

plainly : there are two elements in man, good and evil, nature 
and sin. The good, because it partakes of the nature of exist- 
ence itself, because it is corrupted, because it is deficient, must 
be restored by training. The evil, because it is sin, because it 
is corruption, because it partakes of the nature of non-exist- 
ence, should be shut out, and if it cannot be entirely exter- 
minated, at least it should be controlled through the appUca- 
tion of a remedy. . . . The integrity of human hfe should 
be maintained by two means, knowledge and virtue, which 
together constitute the sole thing in us that is like the super- 
natural and divine existences." ^ 

This conception of the purpose of life was not original with Spiritual 
the Middle Ages, but it was derived from a long line of devotees, ancient 
reaching back to the remote ascetics of the earliest civilization, i^^^ai 
Plato symbolizes it as : — 

"The release of the prisoners from chains, and their transla- 
tion from the shadows to the images and the light, and their 
ascent from the u'hderground den to the sun . . . elevating 
the highest principle in the soul to the contemplation of that 
which is best in existence." ^ 

Such a notion did not of necessity utterly disparage the in- 
ferior knowledge, the aim of which is health and earthly pros- 
perity. To Hugo that was a knowledge of "instrumentalities," 
indispensable, indeed, but required merely because of our 
fallen state. The mediaeval scholastic world did not waste an 
inordinate amount of time in the endeavor to master the empir- 
ical facts of "those objects which have both beginning and end 
and are called temporal." ^ The world beyond the gates of 
monastery and cathedral was overawed by the majesty and the 
mystery of the conception of life illustrated behind them. The 
highest aspirations of the finest spirits, whether of priests or of 

^ Libri Didascalici, Book VI. ^ Republic, Book VII. 

' Libri Didascalici, Ch. VII. 



4 Principles of Education 

laymen, were turned toward the eternal order. Excommunica- 
tion was the direst of penalties. The recovery of the Holy Land 
from the Infidel was the loftiest of enterprises for the warrior, 
who alone among those [who were not clergymen possessed a 
profession that could be called noble. 
The Renais- (2) Aristocratic, Social, and ^Esthetic Culture. — The Renais- 
the^rcvfvai ^ancc constitutcs an attack upon the supremacy in learned 
of worldly educatiou of the rehgious ideal. Its characteristic feature is 
the development among the aristocracy of an interest in the 
3^terature and culture of classical antiquity, which the revival 
of learning had recently brought to hght. Important causes 
for this interest were the growth of wealth, the cessation of 
general warfare, the gradual evolution of elegant court life, 
among the refined activities of which poetry and letters played 
a constantly increasing part, and in the field of statecraft the 
development of diplomacy as a partial substitute for general- 
ship. All these conditions tended to create a society to which 
the humanist was most welcome. He brought artistic social 
ideals and charming employments for leisure. He brought 
a standard in linguistic matters that appealed powerfully to 
those who wished to lead in the struggle where persuasion was 
so rapidly supplanting mere force. The new learning affected 
the old scholastic world, it is true, but far stronger was its 
y effect upon the polite society which needed occupation for its 
^'new-found leisure. Hence, it may be said that the dominant 
purpose of that literary education which was characteristic 
of the Renaissance was that it should be liberal in the ancient 
sejis^ It was preparation for leisure and for leadership. The 
first of these aims is well brought out by one of the ablest of 
humanists, Guarino, Professor of Rhetoric at Bologna and at 

Renaissance Fcrrara '. — 
ideal of 

cducaiion "I would Urge you to consider the function of letters as an 
for leisure adornment of leisure. Cicero, as you remember, declares 



Various Conceptions of the Aim of Education 5 

Learning to be the inspiration of youth, the delight of age, 
the ornament of happy fortunes, the solace of adversity. A 
recreation in the Study, abroad it is no hindrance. In our 
work, in our leisure, whether we keep vigil or whether we court 
sleep, Letters are ever on hand as our surest resource. Do 
we seek refreshment for our minds? Where can we find it 
more happily than in the pursuit which affords alike utility 
and dehght ? If others seek recreation in dice, in ball play, 
in the theater, do you seek it in acquiring knowledge. There 
you will see nothing which you may not admire ; you will hear 
nothing which you would gladly forget. ... A life spent 
amidst such interests deserves the title which the younger 
PKny gives to it — "the true, the kingly life"; or as Attilius 
was wont to say, no leisure could be more nobly occupied than 
that spent amongst books. Learned labor, he said, was 
'pleasanter than any pleasures.' " ^ 

Here then we have the characteristic purpose of humanistic 
culture. But it is not to be supposed that learning was not 
regarded as having, in addition to its uses as an adornment of 
leisure, some value for the business of Kfe. This second aim 
is brought out with especial clearness by the eminently prac- 
tical iEneas Sylvius, at one time secretary to the Emperor 
Frederick III, later Pope Pius II. In writing concerning the 
education of Ladislas, the youthful King of Bohemia, he says: — 

"Need I, then, impress upon you the importance of the Renaissance 
study of Philosophy, and of Letters, without which indeed '^^ai of 
Philosophy itself is barely intelligible ? By this twofold wisdom for"Ttate° 
a Prince is trained to understand the laws of God and of man, by craft 
it we are all enUghtened to see the reahties of the world around 
us. Literatjjj# is our guide to the true meaning of the past, 
to a right estimate of the present, to a sound forecast of the 
future. Where letters cease, darkness covers the land ; and a 
Prince who cannot read the lessons of history is a helpless prey 
of flattery and intrigue." ^ 

^ De Ordine Docendi et Sludendi. * De Liberorum Educatione. 



Principles of Education 



Renaissance 
ideal of 
education 
for social 
culture 



The prince and the statesman may, therefore, find letters 
the true guide to an insight into those laws of human nature 
and of society upon which the craft of poHtics depends. Above 
all they may thus learn to know more clearly those laws of 
God by which the conduct of states should be controlled. 

The essay from which this extract is taken is largely devoted 
to showing the value of humanities in the art of government. 
This is not their sole utihty. The same laws of God and man 
that are fundamental for the statesman are the basis of the 
art of social and civic life for the community in general, for 
those who are governed as well as for those who govern. This 
further extension of the practical value of letters to include their 
reaction on morals and customs in society at large is well de- 
fended by the man who is, perhaps, the greatest of humanists, 
Erasmus. Of him Professor Woodward says : ^ — 

" The organized life of the civilized community is to Erasmus 
the only Hfe worth living; his educational aim is therefore a 
social aim. It does not stop short with the perfection of the 
individual, the preparation of a self-contained life. When he 
speaks of a knowledge of Christ and his glory as totius eruditionis 
Scopus,^ he by no means implies that the end of right training is 
personal salvation. He has given in De civilitate morum puer- 
ilium his description of education in definite terms. 'Sicut 
prima (pars) , ita prcscipua est ut tenellus anhnus imhihat pietatis 
seminar ia, proxima ut liberates disciplinas et amet et perdiscat, 
tertia est, ut a vitce officia instruatur, quarta est ut a primis statim 
(Bvi rudimentis civilitati morum adsuescatJ"^ 

To Erasmus letters constituted one of the vital elements in 
this social culture that would make the r ecipi ent refined, 

^ Erasmus Concerning Education. ^ The extent of all learning. 

3 "The first and also the principal function (of education) is that the tender 
spirit may drink in the seeds of piety, the next that he may love and learn 
thoroughly the liberal studies, the third is that he may be informed concerning the 
duties of life, the fourth is that from the earliest childhood he may be habituated 
in courteous manners." 



Various Conceptions of the Aim of Education 7 

courteous, conscientious, and capable in those political and 
social functions the existence of which formed for the man of 
education of that age his proper vocation. Put briefly, the 
conception is that of learning as preparation for effectiveness 
in social relations, and in this may be found the broadest ideal 
of the Renaissance. 

(3) Universal Knoivledge. — In this we have the ideal of the Knowledge 
learned man, the philosopher, scholar, or scientist. Of all the , ^^^^j^ ™°^;^ 
types of the ideal of personal culture it is most general, and, 1 versai of 
unless it is expressly excluded, most likely to be found asso- ■ of^perso^nal 
ciated with the other forms. It is the ideal of Plato and Aris- -culture 
to tie. In a religious guise it becomes the "beatific vision" of 
Dante. We note its presence in the views of Hugo of St. 
Victor, already quoted. To him knowledge constituted an 
indispensable instrumentality of salvation, as well as the goal 
of this process. In the former capacity it concerned temporal 
affairs, in the latter it dealt with the Divine. 

The ideal of universal knowledge received new life and a new 
form as a result of the learning, the philosophy, and the science 
of the Renaissancd The extent and the possibilities of knowl- 
edge of temporal matters were suddenly and enormously 
widened. Men plunged with passionate enthusiasm into the 
task of exploiting these new fields. The interest in worldly 
knowledge threatened to sweep away that in the Divine. 
Indeed, Divine Knowledge came to be regarded as after all 
to be sought in a study of the works of God as manifest in na- 
ture and in humanity. Thus Milton declares : — 

"The en(^Jjien of learning is to repair the ruins of our first Renaissance 
parents by regaining to know God aright, and out of that and Refor- 
knowledge to love Him, to imitate Him, and to be like Him, idLr^f 
as we may the nearest by possessing our souls of true virtue, education 
which being united to the heavenly grace of faith makes up the ^""^^u^^^ 
highest perfection. But because our under statiding cannot in g^gg 



8 



Principles of Education 



Pansophic 
ideal of 
Comenius 



Bacon's pan- 
sophism as 
referring to 
scientific 
knowledge 
of nature 



this body found itself hut on sensible things, nor arrive so clearly 
at a knowledge of God and things invisible as by orderly conning 
over the visible and inferior creature, the same method is neces- 
sarily to be followed in all discreet teaching. And seeing e very- 
nation affords not experience and tradition enough for all kinds 
of learning, therefore we are chiefly taught the languages of 
those people who have at any time been most industrious after 
wisdom ; so that language is but the instriunent conveying 
to us things useful to be knoVn." 

In a similar strain Comenius asserts : — 

"It is evident, then, that the ultimate end of man is eternal 
happiness with God. The subordinate ends are ... to be 
(i) acquainted with aU things ; (2) endowed with power over 
all things and over himself; (3) to refer himself and all things 
to God, the source of all." ^ 

And again: — 

"The seeds of knowledge, of virtue, and of piety are, as we 
have seen, naturally implanted in us ; but the actual knowl- 
edge, \drtue, and piety are not so given. These must be 
acquired by prayer, by education, and by action." ^ 

The educational ideals of Milton and of Comenius and even 
of Bacon may properly be termed pansophy. This word is a 
favorite one with Comenius, and it is illustrated in the scheme 
of textbooks that he planned, in the course of instruction that 
he would give, and in the contents of the schoolbooks which 
he wrote. The aim of education is "to know all things." 
No less pansophic is the extraordinary course of study that 
Milton outHnes for his ideal academy : and Bacon, dreaming 
of a quick reconstruction of all the sciences und||g;he guidance 
of his new method, proposed to complete by his own labors 
the account of the natural universe and to present this to the 
world in a series of works that might properly constitute the 

1 Tractate on Education. ^ Magna Didactica, Ch. IV. ' Ibid., Ch. VI. 



Various Conceptions of the Aim of Education 9 

foundation of the future course of study for all learned men. 
The age was encyclopedic. Largely unconscious of the possi- 
bilities of science and of the true significance of the new method, 
it planned to sum up earthly knowledge as the Middle Ages 
had striven to state the science of the Eternal. 

The pansophic ideal of the seventeenth century cannot be 
said to have produced an immediate and profound reaction 
upon the schools. As a positive proposal for a course of study 
it was open to two criticisms. First, the new science had not 
as yet achieved enough to make a strong plea for admission 
to the curriculum, much less to hope to dominate it. Second, 
the odds and ends of knowledge that the devotees of realism 
put into their textbooks ^ resulted in instruction that must 
have been almost as meaningless and as dry as the memoriz- 
ing of Latin grammar that it was to replace. 

The strength of pansophy came from its protest against the Attack of 
exclusive devotion to linguistic study, the verbaHsm into on'^the Un- 
which the classical schools had degenerated. The reformers guistic cur- 
succeeded admirably in displaying the formalism, the artificial- the Renais- 
ity, the uselessness of much of the work of the school. They ^^°^^ 
put humanism on the defensive, and paved the way for more 
rational m.ethods of teaching, and for the expansion of the cur- 
riculum as new forces made this imperative. Meanwhile, 
humanism discovered a new argument to justify its program, 
and so successful was this argument that it put off about two 
centuries the day of doom for the classical curriculum. More- 
over, this debate brought to the front more clearly than ever 
before the ideal of mental discipline, one of the most important 
of the idealS'Of personal culture. 

/ (4) Mental Discipline. — The notion of education for dis- 
cipline, as Professor MxSnroe points out,- harks back to the 

' Compare the Orhh Pictiis of Comenius. 
^ Textbook in History of Education, Ch. IX. 



lO Principles of Education 

Mental disci- Middle Agcs, and from thence to the sources of the religious 

defeLr of conceptions at that time dominant. Historically it has been 

the ciassi- associated with the negations of asceticism, of self-control, and 

ary curric- of the rightcous Hfc. In the eighteenth century it came into 

uium 2i new service. It became the guard of honor for a linguistic 

curriculum long outworn, a forlorn hope to save schools and 

teachers untU a new learning with new uses might come to 

their reenforcement. After all, say the disciplinarians, it does 

not matter what we study so long as our faculties are trained. 

The refined nature, the keen mind, the steady wiU, — these are 

the ahnost certain outcome of that excellent system of discipline 

that has come down from the Renaissance.^ 

Wolf on dis- ''This therefore is the point of the classical studies: aU- 

cipiinary round development of aU powers of the soul, of the intellectual 

e ucation ^^ ^^ ^^ moral and aesthetic, through discipline of every kind, 

from the most elementary to the most advanced and difficult." ^ 

Thus Paulsen sums up the arguments of F. A. Wolf (1759- 
1824) in defense of the classical program in the gymnasium. 
The conception which we here find so clearly defined in the 
eighteenth century was coming to the front in the seventeenth. 
Among those who betray its influence in the earlier period, 
Professor Monroe singles out John Locke. 

Locke on "The business of education is not to make the young perfect 

mental dis- jn any One of the sciences, but so to open and dispose their 

th^ideaTof ^linds as may best make them capable of any when they shaU 

culture apply themselves to it. . . . It is therefore to give them this 

freedom that I think they should be made to look into all sorts 

of knowledge and exercise their understanding in so wide a 

variety of stock of knowledge. But I do not propose it as a 

variety and stock of knowledge, but a variety and freedom of 

thinking ; as an increase in the powers and activities of the 

mind, not as an enlargement of its possessions." ^ 

^ Geschichte des gelehrten Unterrichts : Paulsen. 
2 Conduct oj the Understanding. 



I 



Various Conceptions of the Aim of Education 1 1 

Although Locke thus clearly conceived the idea of mental Locke not 
discipHne, he does not use it to support the narrow classical disd"n^ 
curriculum, but rather in defense of a broad and varied one. arian 
Stated in this form, the discipHnary idea is unquestionably 
capable of a strong defense, a defense that will be considered in 
detail later.^ That Locke was not a narrow disciplinarian may 
further be seen from his rejection of the common notion that 
mere strength of memory can be increased by training. 

"I hear it said, that children should be employed in getting 
things by heart, to exercise and improve their memories. I 
could wish this were said with as much authority of reason, 
as it is with forwardness of assurance, and that this practice 
were established upon good observation more than old custom. 
For it is evident that strength of memory is owing to an happy 
constitution, and not to any habitual improvement got by 
exercise." ^ 

Here Locke Is especially attacking the prevalent defense of 
the custom of "learning pages of Latin by heart," which he 
declares "no more fits the memory for retention of anything 
else than the graving of one sentence in lead makes it the more 
capable of retaining firmly any other characters." 

Thus his statements furnish us with an account, on the one 
hand, of the narrow discipHnary view, at any rate so far as this 
Is embraced in the discipline of the memory, and, on the other, 
of a broad view, which, although it ran counter to the prevail- 
ing practices in the classical schools, was nevertheless a notion 
of mental discipline. 

Unfortunately for the progress of the schools it was the nar- 
row rather than the broad conception of mental discipHne that 
came to prevail during the next two centuries. As the end of 
education was thought to be the training of the powers, so 
the ideal curriculum was thought to be, not one rich in a variety 

* Compare Ch. X. 2 Thoughts on Education, § 176. 



12 Principles of Education 

of content, but rather one bare of all material that through its 
inherent interest would distract the mind from attention to 
the mere process of learning. Such severe training was re- 
garded as the one thing needful. A man educated by such 
methods had no need of a memory crammed with this or that 
bit of knowledge, nor would he be embarrassed by the lack of 
this or that mechanic art or professional device. Not the facts, 
but the ability to find them surely and quickly ; not rules of 
thumb, but the intelligence to learn, improve, or invent these as 
circumstances may make wise ; such powers are the basis of 
the highest efficiency, and they are the goal of standard edu- 
cation. So reasons the disciplinarian, and the argument 
seems fascinating, plausible. No doubt in part it is true. 

But in practice it has one great tactical weakness. It can 
be used to defend almost any curriculum. It saved the school- 
master while he remained exclusively a classicist. When, 
however, new subjects came one by one knocking at the gate 
of the temple of learning, it was futile to deny them admission 
on the ground that the old subjects furnished such valuable 
discipHne. This merit must be ascribed to any study properly 
done. 
Seif-reaiiza- (5) S el j -realization. — The Enlightenment of the eighteenth 
ideal o^f the ccutury brought with it a new reahzation of the importance of 
EnHghten- individuaHty. Whether as a revolution against the formalism, 
the artificiality, and the tyranny of social conventions, litera- 
ture, religion, government, and education during the preceding 
absolutistic age, or as an attempt at a reconstruction of these 
phases of human activity on sound and stable foundations, it 
is the rights of man, the sacredness of personahty, that are 
everywhere emphasized. In consequence, the age formulated 
m.ore clearly than had ever been done before the ethical and 
educational ideal of self-realization. 

The revolutionary phase of this ideal is illustrated in the 



ment 



Vfirious Conceptions of the Aim of Education 13 

conception of negative education entertained by Rousseau. 
Education, he thinks, like government, should "let alone." 
The best government is that which imposes least restraint; 
the best education is self-education. This proposition is based 
on the idea that the child has within him all that is necessary 
to insure the most fitting destiny, and that his growth toward 
this goal is warped or stunted by positive education, 

"Everything is good as it came from the author of nature ; Rousseau 
everything degenerates in the hands of man. ... AU that on natural 

Splf-ClGVPi- 

we have not at birth, and which we require when grown up, opment 
is bestowed on us by education. This education we receive 
from nature, from men, or from things. The internal develop- 
ment of our organs and faculties is the education of nature ; 
the use we are taught to make of the development is the edu- 
cation given us by men ; and in the acquisitions made by our 
own experience in regard to the objects that surround us con- 
sists our education from things. . . . Since the concurrence 
of these three kinds of education is necessary, it is by that one 
which is entirely independent of us that we must regulate the two 
others." ^ 

Education should therefore, Rousseau believes, be "accord- 
ing to Nature." It should aim simply to insure the free 
development of those potentialities with which nature has 
endowed the child. In this conception Pestalozzi and Froebel 
were followers of Rousseau. Thus Pestalozzi asserts : — 

"All the pure and beneficent powers of humanity are neither Pestalozzi 
the products of art nor the results of chance. They are really andFroe- 

4. 1 • r jj o bel on self- 

a natural possession of every man. ^ realization 

"If we desire to aid the poor man, the very lowest among 
the people, this can be done in one way only, that is by chang- 
ing his schools into true places of education, in which the moral, 
intellectual, and physical powers which God has put into our 
nature may he drawn out." ^ 

^ Emile, Book I. ^ Evenijig Hours of a Hermit, No. 8. 

' Quoted by Morf, Part i, p. 211. 



14 Principles of Education 

In the same strain Froebel declares : — 

*'By education, then, the divine essence of man should be 
imfolded, brought out, Kfted into consciousness, and man 
himself raised into free conscious obedience to the divine prin- 
ciple that lives in him and to a free representation of this prin- 
ciple in his life." ^ 

Emphasis on But the Swiss and the German were not merely negative 
inrtmction ^^*^ revolutionary in their notion of the aim and process of 
for seif-de- education. To each the course of self-realization was one that 

velopment, . i i i • • c i i 

especially required the constant support and supervision ot the teacher 
by Herbart jgg^ j^ gQ -yvTong. The importance of this process of instruction 
is so much emphasized by Herbart that one is likely to lose 
sight of the fact that he too may be called a behever in the ideal 
of self-realization. Nevertheless, we cannot characterize his 
views otherwise. 

"We call the first part of the educational aim, many-sidedness 
of interest, which must be distinguished from its exaggeration — 
dabbling in many things . ' ' This must be ' ' proportionate many- 
sidedness. We shall thus get the meaning of the common 
expression ^ harmonious cultivation of all the powers.' " ^ 

This many-sidedness, according to Herbart, finds its function 
in furnishing the material in thought and feeling upon which 
moral strength of character may be founded. 

"Thus it is not a certain number of separate aims that hover 
before us now, . . . but chiefly the activity of the growing 
man — the totality of his inward unconditioned vitaHty and 
susceptibility. The greater this totaUty — the fuller, more 
expanded and harmonious — the greater is the perfection, 
and the greater the promise of the realization of our good 
will." 3 

* Education of Man, § 5. ' Science of Education, Book I, Ch. II, 11. 

» Ihid. 



Various Conceptions of the Aim of Educatio7i 15 

Thus the Herbartian conception is that of feeding all the 
interests that are innate in the individual, so that when fully- 
expanded, or when, in other words, the circle of thought is 
complete, the wUl may be free and righteous. Here we have 
the ideal of perfection, and of perfection through what is in 
effect self-reaHzation, although the reahsm of Herbart leads 
him to dwell rather more upon the instruction of the teacher 
than upon the self-activity of the pupil. 

In the idea of self-realization the conception of personal inciusiveness 
culture receives its most philosophic, its most inclusive state- °| ggi^f.'^'^^'^l 
ment. The "harmonious development of all the powers" ization 
constitutes a formula that covers spiritual culture, social and 
aesthetic culture, knowledge, and discipline. These powers 
may be conceived as the faculties of the disciplinarian, the 
interests of Herbart, or the instincts of modern psychology. 
We may with the evolutionist look upon their development 
as the budding forth in the individual of the inheritance which 
we draw from the countless ages of the history of Hfe ; or after 
the fashion of the ideahsts, Fichte and Hegel, we may regard 
this process as the revelation of mind to itself. 

These considerations suggest that our formula is so compre- Conception 
hensive as to be meaningless. But if it constitutes a summary -fadon'^^in 
of all the ideals of personal culture, it can be no more devoid need of 
of definition than the factors of which it is composed. Indeed, deSnition 
one may, if he choose, show that the endeavor to define each 
of these ideals is likely to involve ultimately all the others. 
Spiritual culture finds the virtues it inculcates largely by noting 
the needs of society. Universal knowledge is an aim both of 
spiritual culture and of education for leisure. Mental disci- 
pHne includes spiritual disciphne, and, Hke it, gets meaning 
from the social, artistic, and intellectual uses to which it can 
be put. Thus we may suspect that, if self-realization is an 
indefinite ideal, its vagueness arises from an inherent quaHty 



1 6 Principles of Education 

in all ideals of personal culture. This point becomes more 
clear when we compare this educational aim with its antithesis, 
the aim of efficiency. 



Section 2. Efficiency versus personal culture as the educa- 
tional aim 

Method of de- J Any onc who conceives the ideal of education to be personal 
the°^ mean-) culture is Compelled to look within the individual to find that 
ing (i) o^' which constitutes the objective point of all training. Thus 
culture ; V somc form of psychological analysis of the personaUty must be 
invoked. We look within, and find a soul longing for perfection 
of some sort, — for an eternal reign of righteousness to satisfy 
its ethical cravings, for universal knowledge to meet its intel- 
lectual powers and aspirations, for beauty and social elegance 
to please its taste, — and in these somewhat abstract objects 
toward which the elemental human functions direct themselves 
we find the goal of education. Or, perhaps, looking still further 
within, we find in the cultivation of the functions themselves 
without reference to results a more fundamental educational 
aim. Mental discipline or self-realization, processes which 
derive their content wholly from an analysis of the nature 
of the individual, are fixed upon as the essence of education. 
One is led to think that the schoolmaster is not concerned 
with satisfying human cravings, but rather with nourishing 
these and training their power to feed themselves. 
(2) of effi- j On the other hand, the ideal of efficiency directs the atten- 
ciency |Jqj^ ^^^ within, but outward to the environment, to the condi- 
, tions of life. Assuming' human nature to be what it is, the 
/ utihtarian considers the problem of training it to do in the 
I life situations in which it finds itself the things that are felt 
to be worth while. The question is not what powers does the 
individual possess, but rather what powers will he need? 



Various Conceptions of the Aim of Education 17 



Psychological analysis from this point of view finds its use as a 
method of arriving at a knowledge of the means of education 
rather than of its ends. To teach a child, one must know 
what and how this child can learn. But to determine the ends 
of education, we must discover by objective analysis the nature 
of the circumstances with which the cultured man will have to 
cope. He will need certain virtues to get on satisfactorily in 
society, and certain social accompKshments not only to enjoy 
himself therein, but also to command social influence, — that 
most important of all instrumentalities for effective living. 
As for knowledge, he should have only what he can use, and 
if that be too much for him to learn, then the school should 
teach him that which he is likely to find of the greatest use. 
The question of whether the child is realizing the potentiaHties 
of his nature is unimportant. The vital consideration is 
whether he is learning to do those things which will make him 
as an adult one who in the judgment of the world is an efficient 
man and citizen. 

One of the most interesting and best known formulations of 
the aim of efficiency is that of Herbert Spencer. Education, 
he thinks, is for "complete living," which includes 

"Not how to live in the mere material sense only, but in the 
widest sense. The general problem which comprehends every 
special problem is — the right ruling of conduct in all direc- 
tions under all circumstances. In what way to treat the body ; 
in what way to treat the mind ; in what way to manage our 
affairs ; in what way to bring up a family ; in what way to 
behave as a citizen ; in what way to utilize all those sources 
of happiness which nature supplies ?" ^ 

All this we may sum up in that favorite phrase of the evo- 
lutionist "adaptation to environment." By environment is 
here meant not merely that of physical nature, but also that of 

^ Education, Ch. I. 
c 



Psychology 
as deter- 
minative 
of the 
means of 
education ; 
the condi- 
tions of 
life as de- 
termining 
its end 



Spencer on 
the details 
of complete 
living 



1 8 Principles of Education 

civilization into which nature has so largely been transformed. 
Thus President Butler declares : — 

Butler on the "The entire educational period after the physical adjust- 
complSte^Td- -"^^^^ ^^^ ^^^^ made, after the child can walk alone, can feed 
justment to itsclf, Can usc its hands, and has therefore acquired physical 
life of to-day and bodily independence, is an adjustment to what may be 
called our spiritual environment. Thus education means 
a gradual adjustment to the spiritual possessions of the race. 
Those possessions may be variously classified, but they cer- 
tainly are at least fivefold. The child is entitled to his scien- 
tific inheritance, to his literary inheritance, to his aesthetic 
inheritance, to his institutional inheritance, and to his religious 
inheritance. Without them he cannot become a truly edu- 
cated or a cultivated man." ^ 

CWe must be adjusted to this spiritual, this social environ- 
ent in order to succeed, to be efiicient.. To find what edu- 
cation should aim to do we must study the specific problems 
that time, place, and circumstance wiU bring to confront the 
graduates of our schools. Each type of school will have a 
special task, if, indeed, the classification of its pupils does not 
reveal several tasks that are quite distinct. The teachers must 
study the natures of their pupils, not primarily to find out 
what there is to be brought to realization, but rather to dis- 
cover to what uses they can be put. Psychological analysis 
reveals a mass of raw material in the way of instincts, powers, 
tastes, and it is the first problem of the schoolmaster to deter- 
mine what of this crude ore it wiU pay to work. 
Utility of the In discussiug the relation of these two ideals, efficiency and 

for personal Personal culture, I wish at this time to emphasize two points. 

culture The first of these has already been mentioned. It is that, 
although in different ages the school may emphasize now the 
one, now the other educational aim, nevertheless, neither is 

^ The Meaning of Education. 



Various Conceptions of the Aiin of Education 19 

ever wholly neglected. All the forms of personal culture have 
fostered efficiency. The practical service of the ideal of spirit- 
ual culture in the social evolution of man was unquestionably 
enormous. Even the asceticism of the Middle Ages had a 
tremendous effect in exalting the standards of value in worldly 
conduct. The constant presence in those rude ages of the 
spectacle of cowl of monk and spire of cathedral kept the mind 
infused with the sense of the eternity that they symbolized. 
In stirring intellectual aspiration, heroic devotion to truth, 
justice, and charity, in promoting peace and good will, this 
consciousness worked to prepare not merely for eternity but 
also for civilization. The educational ideal of the Renaissance, 
aiming to train for leadership in statecraft and especially in 
diplomacy through literary and philosophic culture, was 
explicitly utilitarian. Bacon, who may be called the leading 
inspirer of the pansophic ideal, dreamed of a reconstruction 
of the conditions of life through the discoveries of the new 
science. \ 

"Now the true and lawful goal of the sciences is none other Bacon on 
than this : that human life be endowed with new discoveries scientific 
and powers. But of this the great majority have no feeling, as^Tmeans 
but are merely hireling and professional ; except when it occa- of recon- 
sionally happens that some workman of acuter wit and covetous stmctmg 
of honor applies himself to a new invention ; which he mostly yxIq 
does at the expense of his fortunes. But, in general, so far are 
men from proposing to themselves to augment the mass of 
arts and sciences that from the mass already at hand they 
neither take nor look for anything more than they can turn to 
use in their lectures, or to gain, or to reputation, or to some 
similar advantage." ^ 

The possibilities of human intelligence, when once it turns 
itself resolutely to the task of endowing human Hfe with 

^ Novum Organum, Book I, Aphorism LXXXI. 



20 Principles of Education 

"new discoveries and powers," are partially foreshadowed in 
the dream of "Saloman's House" or the "College of the Six 
Days' Work," of which he says : — 

"The end of our Foundation is the knowledge of Causes 
and secret motions of things and the enlargement of the bounds 
of Human Empire, to the effecting of all things possible." ^ 

It is true that the pansophic ideal could hardly be said either 
in the school or in hfe to have been interpenetrated with the 
utilitarian spirit until in the last century. Herein lies, perhaps, 
the reason for its failure to influence more widely the curricu- 
lum. Realism had to show its uses before it could shake the 
reign of the classics, for these had been useful, and even after 
their specific use came to be doubtful, the argument from their 
disciplinary value was a distinct endeavor to save them 
because of the higher utihty thus attributed to them. It 
follows that mental discipHne aims in reaHty at efficiency, 
somewhat vaguely conceived. The ideal of self-reahzation 
however, seems to be without mitigation individualistic and 
perfectionistic. But it is to be noted that with Rousseau, and 
especially with Pestalozzi, it included the ability to make one's 
livelihood through a vocation rather closely in contact with 
Nature. So, too, Froebel, idealist though he was, found in the 
vocation a symbol of the divine activity which education 
should foster. 
Personal cui- It may be asked why, if these ideals all have their utilitarian 
dudes"but ^^'^^' their reaction upon practical life, do we speak of them as 
fails to ideals of personal culture rather than of efiiciency. The answer 

emphasize .,..,, .,.^, , 

efficiency IS that it IS largely a matter oi emphasis. In the past we have 
been thinking of personal culture as an end in itself. Effi- 
ciency was not utterly neglected, but it was overshadowed 
by ideaHsm. Similarly, it cannot be said that the utihtarian- 

^ Nova Atlantis. 



Various Conceptioyis of the Aim of Education 21 

ism of to-day means a total abandomnent of idealism. It is 
merely a question of emphasis, and from the standpoint of 
general progress we may suspect that this shifting of attention 
has been on the whole a symptom of health. By this I mean 
no defense of utihtarianism as an ultimate philosophy of life, 
but rather an insistence on the place and service of the practical 
attitude in relation to human progress. 

The tentative definition of that service constitutes the 
second point which I wish to make in criticism of the relation 
of the ideals of personal culture and of efficiency. Put briefly, 
we may say that the essential jmiction of tJie cottception of effi- 
ciency is to serve as a criterion to determine among rival courses 
of study and methods of teaching those which shoidd prevail. 
The ideals of personal culture furnish us no such criteria. 
One of the most effective expressions of this fact is that of 
Professor Dewey. 

*'It is said the end of education may be stated in purely 
individual terms. For example, it is said to be the harmonious 
development of all the powers of the individual. Here we have 
no apparent reference to social life or membership, and yet it 
is argued we have an adequate and thoroughgoing definition 
of what the goal of education is. But if this definition is taken 
independently of social relationship, we shall find that we have 
no standard or criterion for telling what is meant by any one 
of the terms concerned. We do not know what a power is ; we 
do not know what development is ; we do not know what har- 
mony is ; a power is a power with reference to the use to which 
it is put, the function it has to serve." ^ 

The positive conclusion to which this criticism forces us is 
that we cannot determine the end of education except by a 
consideration of the social life for an entrance to which it 
constitutes the preparation. To use Professor Dewey's illus- 



Function of 
the concep- 
tion of efS- 
ciency as 
selective 



Dewey's crit- 
icism on 
the lack of 
meaning in 
the idea 
'"harmoni- 
ous devel- 
opment of 
all the 
powers" 



^ Ethical Principles underlying Education. 



22 



Pri7iciples of Education 



All ideals of 
personal 
culture 
need defi- 
nition 
through 
use 



tration, as a manufacturer's aim is to supply a demand which 
he discovers from a study of what people like and need, so the 
teacher's work should be determined by a consideration of 
what society as a whole requires of those who succeed. Edu- 
cation should aim at adaptation to environment. 

When we endeavor to put content into any of the ideals of 
personal culture, we find the same difficulty as with the ideal 
of self-realization. What is spiritual culture? What educa- 
tion prepares for eternity? We know so Httle about that 
career of immortality that we are compelled to decide in favor 
of that which demonstrates its value for life here, and it is 
evident that those spiritual excellences that have survived as 
permanent aims for the culture of to-day are such as have 
proved their efficacy in fostering our civilization. Asceticism 
remains as long as extreme examples of disregard for worldly 
success are necessary to progress in general worldly prosperity. 
It tends to disappear just in so far as it becomes useless. 
Social and aesthetic culture have no means of determining what 
fashions and manners or what artistic cults should be en- 
couraged in education except as these contribute to the general 
effectiveness of social life, or, in other words, furnish the 
adaptation to a social order that proves through persistent 
survival its title to permanence. The absurdity of the pan- 
sophic scheme of education, when faced with the almost infinite 
variety of knowledge that research has to-day accumulated, is 
so evident that the need of a criterion to winnow out the 
small fraction of the known that should be taught goes without 
question. Again, we have seen how mental discipline, since it 
can be obtained equally well from any subject, provided this 
be studied properly, leaves us to study what we choose, or 
what the schoolmaster prefers that we choose. 

Now an aim of education that does not tell us what the 
content of education should be is manifestly inadequate. 



Varioiis Conceptions of the Aim of Education 23 



of the aim 
of effi- 
ciency to 
determine 
the ends 
which 
utility- 
should 
serve 



The ideals of personal culture leave the schoolmaster to lead 
his pupil whither he will, through this desert of famine or that 
meadow of sport, and on the way he may gather flowers or 
pebbles or dust and ashes. There is no ultimate goal the 
arrival at which is the evidence that the route has been properly 
chosen and the genuine treasures of the wayside discovered 
and garnered. 

On the other hand, the test of efficiency when taken alone is inadequacy 
equally inadequate to determine the content of education. 
The explication and defense of this view will for the most part 
be left until the outHnes of the theory of education that it is 
intended to present are all sketched in, but we may here note 
that whatever is useful is useful for something. Hence, in the 
final good things, when once they have been discovered, must lie 
the ultimate value of all our utihties. It follows that, while 
Professor Dewey's criticism of the ideal of self-realization is 
sound, the implication that it conveys as to the adequacy of 
the idea of adjustment in determining the definite character 
of the content of education is in need of amendment, or at 
least of supplementary explanation. He finds the aim of edu- 
cation in adjustment to social conditions. It is so largely 
because these social conditions are embodiments of the ap- 
proved methods of meeting the wants of the individual. It is 
my conviction that these wants can be traced to no other source 
than the nature of the individual who feels them. 

In the succeeding pages an attempt will be made to develop 
and defend this view. It will suffice here to recall our prelim- 
inary statement of the function of the ideal of utiHty. It 
serves as a criterion to determine among rival courses of study 
and methods of teaching those that should prevail. It does 
not answer the question what, but rather the question which. 
We must have alternatives before we can apply it. It does 
not create the content of education, nor the ends of fife, but 



24 



Principles of Education 



Education a 
phase of 
evolution, 
since it 
aims at ad- 
justment 



rather selects the one to fit the other. Like the clearing house 
it produces no values, but serves the indispensable purpose of 
adjusting the values that exist. 

The modern tendency is to approach the discussion of the 
theory of education from the point of view of adjustment. 
This formula can, moreover, be made to involve all the issues' 
that our theory should embrace. Hence, we can do no better 
than be both modern and comprehensive by defining educa- 
tion in terms of adjustment, and proceeding to develop the 
implications of our definition. Since our formula is essen- 
tially one of evolutionary theory, we are naturally faced at 
once with the problem of the part of education in organic and 
social evolution. In this analysis we should discover the prin- 
ciples that underlie the nature of the process of education in 
the individual and the character of the educational agencies. 



PART I 

EDUCATION AS A FACTOR IN ORGANIC AND SOCIAL 

EVOLUTION 



CHAPTER II 

*, ■ 

readjustment: its meaning, conditions, and methods 

Section 3. Meaning and fundamental conditions of 
readjustment 

We have agreed to characterize the aim of education as Education as 
efficiency, as adjustment. The process of education will ment^^ 
therefore be that by means of which the individual is brought 
into adaptation to his environment or readjusted. This 
statement is, indeed, merely a formula, and it may sound at 
first Kke a barren one. But it should be remembered that 
the reasons that force its selection are drawn from the fact that 
it enables us to decide upon the content of education. Hence, 
however abstract it may seem, it is nevertheless indispensable, 
and an analysis of its meaning and implications in connection 
with life, whether individual or social, becomes in point. 

Let us assume that this investigation should begin with a Readjust- 
study of the process of readjustment in its lowest terms, "ni^ersai 
Evidently it is not peculiar to human beings, but appKes to all ^^ life 
hfe. If we conceive of education as readjustment, we can 
scarcely limit it to man. The distinction between training 
and education, the latter being confined in its application to 
humanity,^ disappears. Education is an universal process in / . 
the world of organisms. Wherever there is an inner activity 
striving to preserve its identity and to foster its own pecuhar 
aims in the midst of circumstances, some hostile, some favor- 
able, there we have that struggle toward adaptation which 

1 See Rosenkranz, Philosophy of Education, § 14. 
27 



28 



Principles of Education 



Unconscious 
purposive- 
ness in 
simpler 
forms of re- 
adjust- 
ment 



constitutes the fundamental nature of the process of educa- 
tion. We have outer stimuli, the effect of which is dissatis- 
faction ; we have inner growth, the proper result of which is 
a restoration of the equilibrium of the feelings. The entire 
activity must be conceived as teleological, as having an end or 
aim. 

The ascription of a purposiveness to the activities of all 
living beings does not involve one in the assumption that con- 
sciousness in the ordinary sense of the term is universal therein. 
To suppose this would certainly be to commit the "psycholo- 
gist's fallacy." ^ One has only to mean by a purpose that ten- 
dency on the part of each living being to maintain and, 
perhaps, to enhance the conditions that make for the preserva- 
tion of its identity. Herein we have a cause, i.e.^ the perma- 
nency or continuity of the individual, that seems to point to- 
ward the future. It is a force from before rather than one from 
behind. Hence we may justly call it a final cause. That it 
has not yet assumed the form of clear consciousness does not 
imply that it must be construed merely as a bhnd energy. 
It is a force of direction, not one of execution.^ Its function 
in the life of the organism is as little mechanical as is that of 
the most deliberate volition. An unconscious want is no more 
to be classed under the head of physical forces than is judg- 
ment itself. It is a principle of organization, of direction, 
even though it lacks awareness of its own significance. Its 
function seems to be that of deciding between alternatives, a 
statement that applies equally well to the human will and to 
the selective powers of the paramoecium.^ 

Education then means a struggle toward better adjustment. 



1 Compare James, Principles of Psychology, Vol. I, Ch. VII. 

2 See Solomon, Alleged Proof of Parallel istn from the Conservation of Energy, 
Philos. Rev., March, 1899. 

' Compare Jennings, Behavior of the Lower Organisms, Ch. III. 



Readjustment., its Conditions and Methods 29 



It exists because there is a lack of harmony between the organ- 
ism and its environment, and because the organism has within 
it a sensitiveness to this condition, and the power to initiate 
activities that on the whole make for better conditions. '^The 
controlling forces in education are the wants of the organism, 
its capacities, and the external conditions with which these 
internal forces are striving to cope. All of these forces are 
intimately related to each other. The capacities evolve into 
actual powers under the stimulus of the conditions that they 
seem designed to master. Whether they are merely accidental, 
inexplicable variations, or whether they are necessary, though 
at first hidden, properties of living beings, they wait the 
proper conjunction of circumstances before they can reveal 
themselves and act. So, too, the wants of the individual take 
form under the pressure of events. The external conditions 
set the standard in terms of which desire and capacity are 
realized, or made specific and concrete. On the other hand, 
mere circumstances do not account for life, for growth, for 
evolution. It is the merest platitude to say that conditions 
do not make the man, but only offer him his opportunity. 
It is quite as true that external forces can do nothing for any 
plant or animal except to stimulate inherent tendencies. 
Cultivation can provide only a better chance for growth, 
which is always from within. 

By those whose studies have led them to observe the tre- 
mendous influence that nature has upon history, or the extent 
to which living processes can be explained in terms of the 
physical movements and the chemical reactions found illus- 
trated in the phenomena of the inorganic world, the environ- 
ment is likely to be regarded as all in all. That each new 
research into the causes of social evolution states more clearly 
the external conditions to meet which human growth took 
place carmot be denied. So, too, each new study of the physics 



Controlling; 
factors in 
readjust- 
ment 



Interdepend- 
ence of the 
external 
and inter- 
nal factors 
in read- 
justment 



Evolution 
not ex- 
plained by 
environ- 
mental 
conditions 



30 Principles of Education 

of living matter convinces us that the intelligent comprehen- 
sion of its laws can come only through physics and more 
physics. But while the burden of our effort is thus turned 
toward the mechanics of life and society, we can scarcely say 
that the meaning of the processes is in the least made clear by 
such studies, any more than a thorough knowledge of the mech- 
anism of a threshing machine would convey to a person who 
knows nothing whatever about grain any conception concerning 
its function. Even should the chemist by some trick of manipu- 
lation succeed in developing in his laboratory a living thing, 
he could not understand it except in terms of those internal 
wants and capacities, the analogue to which he finds only in 
himself considered as a being having feelings and will. 

The fact that both desire and capacity may be said to be 
dependent upon external conditions for the form that they 
assume cannot, therefore, be advanced to destroy our natural 
belief in their distinctness and reality. We have here some- 
thing more than the physical facts in terms of which they 
express themselves, as the meaning is more than the word. 
Accepting, therefore, both the internal and external factors 
in the life process as equally fundamental, let us attend 
again to the nature of the situations in which the readjustment 
Education that we havc called education takes place. Manifestly there 

by lack of must be a lack of harmony between organism and environment. 

adaptation Moreovcr, if the process of growth is to be continuous, there 
must be in operation agencies that continually frustrate the 
endeavor of the organism to effect complete adjustment. As 
a matter of fact, we find that this is so. No such thing as 
complete adaptation exists in nature. Even where it seems to 
exist, experience proves that there are forces at work that will 
ultimately destroy the balance and result in change in the 
direction either of growth or decay. 

These forces may be summed up under two heads, — changes 



Readjustment^ its Conditions and Methods 31 

in the environment and changes in the organism. That the Changes that 
first of these exists and is continually operative to provoke hi'ck^olf'ad* 
new adjustment on the part of the organism is patent. The aptation 
character of such changes and the types of environment 
dependent on this fact offer the initial expknation of the 
functions of the various classes of living beings and the clew 
to a comprehension of their evolution. But external change, 
although the initial stimulus of growth, is not the only one. 
The process of growth brings about changes in the organism 
that themselves tend to throw it out of gear with its life con- 
ditions. Since growth is change, it is subject to a law of inertia 
that forbids it to stop when the external conditions that stim- 
ulated it cease to trouble. Newton's first law of motion has 
its analogy in the physiological and psychical realms. The 
fuller discussion of these two principles of change will follow 
in the two succeeding sections. 

To summarize the discussion of this section, we may say Summary 
that, accepting the definition of education in terms of adjust- 
ment, we undertake to study more closely the meaning and 
impHcations of this as a general process of life and of evolution. 
It is found to consist in the development on the part of the 
organism of certain powers whereby it may better secure the 
satisfaction of its wants in a given environment. Wants and 
capacities both get their definition from the circumstances in 
conjunction with which they appear. They are, however, 
more than these circumstances, and reveal in themselves the 
true significance of the hfe process, which is, therefore, teleologi- 
cal. The occasion for growth is furnished primarily by changes 
in the environment which stimulate growth. This process of 
internal expansion, however, is subject to a law of inertia that 
tends to destroy any equilibrium which may be established 
between the organism and its external conditions. 



32 



Principles of Education 



Environ- 
mental 
variability 
and educa- 
tion 



Variability 
of environ- 
ments of 
seasonal 
change 



Section 4. Environmental variability 

It has been said that changes in the environment constitute 
the primary stimulus to growth. A variable environment 
will, therefore, be one in which the process of readjustment, 
of education, will be much in evidence. In general, the varia- 
bility of environments is in proportion to their complexity. 
If we were to characterize environments as lower and higher, 
meaning by these the conditions of Hfe of lower and higher 
orders of living beings, we should find the higher environments 
by far the more complex and variable. Since the amount 
and nature of this variabihty determines the quantity and 
character of education, a preliminary comparison of lower and 
higher environments from this point of view is here in place. 
To f aciHtate this purpose the following contrasts are suggested : 
(i) uniform environments versus those affected by seasonal 
change ; (2) local versus regional environments ; (3) physical 
versus social environments ; (4) natural versus artificial 
environments. 

(i) Uniform environments versus those subject to seasonal 
change. — This contrast may be concretely illustrated by the 
deep-sea environment at the one extreme, and at the other, 
land surfaces in temperate or frigid zones. In general, of 
course, torrid conditions are more uniform so far as seasons are 
concerned than temperate or frigid ones, and bodies of water 
are less affected by such changes than land surfaces. Not 
only do these cases illustrate respectively uniformity and 
variability in temperature, but also uniformity and variability 
in food supply as well. This latter is to a great extent de- 
pendent on temperature, and, moreover, the constant move- 
ments in masses of water go far toward equalizing any changes 
in nutritive conditions that might otherwise come to exist. 

In contrast to this simplicity and uniformity, regions of 



adapta- 
tions 



Readjustment, its Conditions and Methods 2)2) 

seasonal change present complexity and variety. To meet Two methods 
this condition new adaptations, new functions appear in the ^^n^^t^^*^^' 
organism. The higher environment is one that can be in- seasonal 
habited only by more complex and more flexible species than ^ ^^^^ 
those which in the dawn of Hfe find themselves able to exist 
in the uniform conditions of the sea. The functions that cope 
with the variations in temperature, food supply, moisture, etc., 
which characterize seasonal conditions, may be classified under 
tvv^o heads: first, methods of temporary protection against the 
changes that the seasons bring; second, the power of move- 
ment by which the animal is able to go from favorable to un- 
favorable locahties. 

The protective adaptations are of great variety. Trees in (i) Protective 
temperate or frigid zones change their internal conditions to 
prepare for the rigors of winter. The storing of food in the 
tuber protected by the earth is another device on the part of 
some plants to preserve the hfe of the individual during winter 
and to provide it with a capital of food in the spring. Water 
may be stored by desert plants. Animals hibernate, mean- 
while consuming, if animation be not suspended, their own 
tissue. With some the covering grows heavier with recurring 
cold. Some simple organisms are desiccated in dry seasons, 
and, as it were, come to hfe again when water is supplied.^ 
Others contract and become encysted as a protection against 
cold or other destructive physical or chemical forces. Fish 
may become practically frozen stiff, so that vital activities are 
suspended for the time being, to be resumed when the proper 
temperature recurs.^ 

(2) Local versus regional environments. — Protective adap- (2) Power of 
tations enable hfe to continue, usually in a passive form, during 
the unfavorable season. They are for the most part negative 

* Compare Verworn, General Physiology (tr. by Lee), p. 279. 
2 Ibid., p. 288. 

D 



naovement 



34 Pri7tciples of Education 

adjustments. The power of movement permits its possessor 
to seek a favorable environment, and thus actively to continue 
the life processes without interruption. But change of place, 
although it brings with it a certain uniformity in vital con- 
ditions that is not enjoyed by organisms inhabiting one spot 
or narrow locality, nevertheless requires a complexity of powers 
and a flexibility in their use that far more than compensates 
for the variety of protective adaptations that power of move- 
Movement ment makes unnecessary. In brief, the muscular and sensory 
''^^° ^"deii- organs become necessary, the one to perform the movements, 



more 



cate body the Other to direct these performances lest movement lead into 

and the ... . , . . . 

power of mstead of away from unsatisfactory or dangerous conditions, 
perception -p^ conncct thesc organs the nervous system must exist, and 
to supply the energy necessary for this vigorous type of life 
a more specialized digestive, circulatory, and respiratory 
system must be developed. The animal requires a peculiar 
and already partially prepared sort of food. It is a parasite 
upon the plant world, or, perhaps, upon other animals. It 
requires a more uniform temperature and supply of air, food, 
etc. The deprivation of any necessity more quickly results 
in death than in the case of the plant. Injury to one part is 
more likely to bring about the death of the whole, 
volution of In consequence, the animal must be able to detect the signs 
orsymboHc ^^ ^^*^^ °^ adjustment very quickly. Indeed, it must be able 
world to take account of signs that merely anticipate lack of adjust- 

ment unless something is done to prevent this. In general, 
the function that takes account of these symbols is that of 
sensation. The various forms of sensation are cognizant 
of the greatest variety of conditions. Delicate changes in 
temperature or pressure, chemical properties that distinguish 
tastes or odors, the form and color of objects and the sounds 
that emanate from them, in short, the great world of perceived 
things is for the higher animal called into existence by the 



J 



Readjustment^ its Conditions and Methods 35 



the mean- 
ing of 
sensory 
symbols 



senses in order that it may by interpreting this aright preserve 
that uniformity in speciaUzed conditions of life that is necessary 
for its existence. Its great resource is its power of movement. 
Its great guide in utilizing this resource is its power of sensation. 

This world of sense is therefore a symbolic world. It does 
not consist of changes in the vital conditions, but rather in Variability in 
that which is symbolic of these. The symbols are far more 
numerous, far more complex and variable than the things 
symbolized. An enemy or food may be suggested by a percep- 
tion of the eye, by a sound, or by an odor. Indeed, the range 
of symbols that may be significant seems practically unlimited, 
whereas the conditions that they indicate are comparatively 
few and simple. The meaning of a symbol depends upon the 
context of sensations. A patch of red swaying gently to and 
fro means a harmless leaf ; one that moves steadily in the same 
direction may mean a deadly foe. The variety and complex- 
ity of these symbols implies their variability. The interpreting 
mind is forced continually to learn new meanings and to un- 
learn old ones, to distinguish between the significance of a 
symbol in one context from that in another, to discriminate 
between infallible and probable signs. 

The more extensive the range of symbols that the animal 
can perceive and interpret, the greater becomes its power of 
effecting adjustments through anticipatory action, and hence 
the more secure its hfe. It purchases safety at the price of 
eternal vigilance. It must be alert to a multitude of things 
that for the lower type of life simply do not exist. Moreover, 
its power of interpreting carries with it a power of mistaking 
symbols. It must possess the power of quickly correcting 
mistakes, of making reinterpretations, or its weapon of defense 
will prove only the instrument of its own destruction. Ca- 
pacity for education must keep pace with the evolution of 
power of movement and its directing sentiency. 



Protection 
through 
vigilance 



36 Principles of Education 

Forms of so- (3) Physical versus social environments. — The contrast 
between physical and social environments illustrates similar 
facts. Social phenomena may take the form of competition 

Varieties of or that of cooperation. The lowest form of competition ap- 
tion^*^ ' pears as a result of growth and multiphcation of hving beings 
in any locality. Each affects the life of the others because all 
have a common feeding ground. Such competition is not 
direct, inasmuch as individuals do not directly attack each 
other, but merely affect the general life conditions by subtract- 
ing from the general fund of food, water, sunhght, etc. Higher 
methods of competing are more direct. Parasitism, where one 
individual or species devours others, illustrates a struggle in 
which the contest is, as it were, hand to hand. Plants may 
consume each other, animals all prey upon plants, and the 
carnivores upon other animals. A higher form of direct com- 
petition involves the struggle to remove others in order that 
desirable conditions may be monopohzed. Perhaps the highest 
form of competition is again indirect, involving not competi- 
tion in consumption but rather in social recognition. Here 
the endeavor is to gain a social reward through social service 
or conformity to social ideals. 

Competition The multipHcatiou of living beings makes life itself more 
securiTy ° sccurc, but at the same time renders the problem of life for the 

Adaptations individual more complex and variable. To meet these condi- 

that it . ,. . , , . , , . 

requires tious ncw adjustments arise, and these are particularly m 
evidence among orders that engage in either direct competi- 
tion or struggle for social recognition. Muscular strength and 
swiftness and keenness of sense gain enormously in value, and 
protective armor, teeth, claws, horns, cunning, evolve to 
contribute to effectiveness in the fierce struggle. Competi- 
tion for social recognition involves the social instinct, and, as 
a rule, the higher intellectual powers which are summed up 
in rationality. 



Readjustment, its Conditions and Methods 2>7 

The struggle with living beings not only involves an ex- Competition 
traordinary array of special adaptations, but the problem of readjust- 
readjustment comes especially in evidence. In the contest ^^'^}- ^° ^ 

•' ^ . readjust- 

with inorganic nature the organism encounters an adversary ing rival 
that is all-powerful but at the same time blind and mechani- 
cally uniform. The living rival, however, is continually chang- 
ing his tactics to meet the successful inventions of his enemy. 
In competition the animal is compelled continually to readjust 
liimself to conditions the variability of which is a function of 
his own power of readjustment. He has to learn to meet, 
not only the present methods of his adversary, but also the 
methods by which this antagonist will counter his new devices. 
He must take account of and strive to fathom that environ- 
ment of mind that to the living being which is concerned only 
with physical nature is non-existent, an environment the va- 
riations of which are dependent upon conditions so capricious 
that the indeterminists have declared them to obey no uniform 
law, and hence to be beyond the ken of foresight. 

But competition alone without cooperation can scarcely Powers in- 
be said to introduce the animal into the inner depths of that coopera-" 
psychical or social environment that lies about him. Co- tion 
operation is the true revealer of mind to mind ; or rather, the 
regime of cooperation in its higher phases is impossible without 
such revelation, and so without the social and moral instincts 
and the inteUigence that lifts man above the brutes. Co- 
operation has its lower levels, in which it is a result of mere 
blind instinct, and in these phases it antedates the higher forms 
of competition. Indeed, group competition and competition 
for social recognition depend on cooperation. But on its 
higher levels cooperation involves more than such knowledge 
of the activities of mind as enables one to destroy another. 
In such a contest strength and good fortune are often more 
effective than wit, and wit itself is of that low order that 



38 



Principles of Education 



Especial vari- 
ability of 
the condi- 
tions of co- 
operation 



Security of 
the envi- 
ronment 
of coopera- 
tion 



New wants as 
the price of 
society 



contents itself with "treasons and stratagems." Intelligent 
cooperation means such mental and moral power as enables 
one mind to influence another, to control it, to reduce it to 
subservience, or to inspire it to independence, to govern, to 
exploit, to educate, to uphft. 

If to a rival the problem of struggle is one of continual read- 
justment to one who is himself readjusting, this factor of 
fathoming and dealing with the variable becomes more in 
evidence when an attempt is made to reach those mainsprings 
of human action that must be touched to bring about coopera- 
tion. To be a companion, a benefactor, a ruler, or a teacher 
demands a comprehension of human attitudes, ideas, and 
motives, a knowledge of the laws of human nature that is 
exhaustless. Hence, the one who cooperates must perpetually 
learn. He is striving to determine the nature of a mind and 
will, which because it is a Hving mind and will is itself contin- 
ually active, growing and determining in new ways both itself 
and others. 

The social environment brings with it a security that amply 
repays the struggle to preserve adjustment to it, to learn its 
variable ways. From parental fosterage to military protec- 
tion, and on to the law, order, education, and philanthropy of 
civiKzation a steady advance has been made in rendering the 
resources of the individual identical with those of the group 
or of humanity. Society is a mutual insurance company 
against the uncertainties of the struggle with the elements or 
with hostile life. Moreover, just as the vital conditions for 
the animal are more specialized than for the plant, and as 
through any deficiency it may more quickly be brought to 
ruin, so the demands of those functions that enable us to dwell 
in social cooperation are more delicate and more exacting than 
are the requirements of life in contact merely with physical 
nature. For society means the interest of all in the welfare 



Readjustment^ its Conditions and Methods 39 

of each and the dependence of each on the good will of all. 
Hence one's needs are no longer limited to food and drink 
and other physical wants, but include the welfare of one's 
fellows and their approval. The instabilities of life in society 
are due far more to the unhappiness of injured sympathies 
or to the sense of social failure than to the lack of the actual 
physical necessities of life. 

(4) Natural versus artificial environments. — Of all the func- The highest 
tions, that one which addresses itself most directly to the task thaf 0° 
of providing secure conditions of life is the power of creating creating 
an artificial environment. By an artificial environment is ^ents 
meant those provisions by which a living being assures for him- 
self the conditions of Hfe when these would not be provided 
by nature. Food is stored, shelter is provided against the 
weather and living enemies. There is doubtless a natural 
evolution from fat and fur to granary and clothing. With 
the latter we have really come to what we may call an artificial 
environment. From simply storing what nature gives in 
excess in her moments of bounty, we come to control and de- 
velop her powers of production and to elaborate these products. 
The use of fire, weapons, tools, domestic animals, capital, Security of 
institutions of society from the court of justice to the public ^.j^j ^l^^_ 
school, — all these are illustrations of the ways and means by ronment 
which man comes to substitute for the uncertainties of climate 
and soil, for the caprice of fortune and the injustice of his 
fellows, an artificial condition that means comparative uni- 
formity, security, fair play, mercy, and finally more constant 
and rapid progress toward better conditions. 

The artificial environment consists of that which is created Provision for 
to-day to be utilized to-morrow. It is the environment of ^s'^ adjust- 
anticipation and provision. In producing it the animal is "^^j^uJ"^^' 
adjusting himself, not to the present emergency, but rather itself 
to one as yet in the future. But if the adjustment to present 



40 



Principles of Education 



Functions 
that deal 
with the 
variable 



■ 



emergencies demands constant learning and relearning, what 
should we say about the efforts that are aimed to meet the 
situations of hidden time to come ? When we enter that land 
of mystery, our activities take on the character of mere prep- 
arations to readjust, — tentative, uncertain steps taken partly 
to test the character of the ground, partly in the hope that it 
may prove firm and our effort be not lost. Our products are 
mere conjectures, hypotheses, surrounded by the atmosphere 
of doubt, interpenetrated with the uncertainty that over- 
comes us when we come to realize to how small a degree the 
gift of prophecy is ours. We pile up alternative securities 
that we may have abundant resources to fall back upon when 
some fail. In adjusting ourselves to the future we are in a 
very real sense endeavoring to cope, not with this or that 
varying thing, but with variability itself. 

The principal adaptations by which the individual is enabled 
to create and master an artificial environment are intelligence 
and persistence. The instincts of prevision expand into the 
conscious foresight of man. Reasoning Professor James has 
defined as the ''power of deahng with novel data." Useful 
in all higher environments, since variability is so universal 
a characteristic of them, it, together with the moral persever- 
ance which is necessary to render it effective, constitutes the 
one thing needful in constructing that artificial condition the 
essence of which is its adaptation to futurity and variability. 
Reasoning endeavors to seize these fundamental laws of ex- 
perience in terms of which all variation can be expressed, to 
accumulate resources by which the situations indicated by 
these laws can be satisfactorily controlled, and so to train the 
individual that these resources will be utilized when needed. 
Intelligence finds its primary function in readjustment, and 
in this power, therefore, capacity for education finds its highest 
expression. 



Readjustment, its Conditions and Methods 41 

Surveying briefly the results of the preceding analysis, we 'Summary ] 
note the one striking fact of the increase in environmental 
variability as we go from lower to higher environments. A 
regional environment (necessarily takes on the character of 
surroundings consisting of the symbols of sense. These 
symbols are indefinite in number, and constantly change their 
significance as circumstances change. The social environment 
is variable with what to the onlooker seems like the indeter- 
minateness of the will. The artificial environment is of the 
essence of provision against the chance and change of the future. 
The evolution of functions to meet these higher conditions 
must, therefore, be a process of perfecting the methods of read- 
justment. The evolution of life may from this point of view 
"liot improperly be called the development of capacity for edu- 
cation. Thus education is not only a factor in evolution, but 
an important aspect of its goal. 

Section 5. The evolution of wants 

We have seen that readjustment means the development Theevoiu- 
of new powers in the organism in order that it may more satis- ^^°^ ^ 
factorily gratify in the given environment the wants of its stimulus 
nature. The stimulus to growth is dissatisfaction, and this justment 
may result either from en\dronmental variations, which render 
the old methods incapable of attaining to old satisfactions, or 
from the evolution of new wants within the organism itself, 
which make it discontented with results hitherto regarded as 
satisfactory. We have spoken of environmental variability 
as the primary stimulus to growth. The evolution of wants 
may for the present be regarded as a secondary stimulus to 
such activity. 

It will be noted that, since wants spring from within, their ^^T' °^ ''"^ 

' f o 1 inertia of 

evolution is a process of growth. Thus growth itself produces growth 



42 



Principles of Education 



Illustrations 
of this law 
in (i) in- 
crease in 
size. 



(2) changes 
in compo- 
sition or 
structure, 



wants which stimulate further growth. This principle may be 
called the inertia of growth. We have stated it more abstractly 
as follows : (lie process of growth brings about changes in the 
organism that themselves tend to throw it out of gear with its life 
conditions} 

The inertia of growth finds one of its simplest illustrations in 
the supposed cause of the fission of the amoeba. Spencer ^ 
called attention to the fact that, since the amoeba absorbs 
food through the surface of its body, the amount that it can 
take in will depend upon the extent of that surface. On the 
other hand, the amount that it needs depends on its volume. 
Since by a simple geometrical principle volume in similar 
solids increases faster than surface, the growing amoeba, like 
population under the law of Malthus, is continually tending to 
outgrow its powers of nourishing itself. Thus it inevitably 
comes to a crisis in which the only salvation is a revolutionary 
restoration of an earlier status, which is accomplished by sim- 
ply splitting itself in two. 

It is probable that the amoeba here illustrates a compara- 
tively universal physiological principle. The power of sus- 
tentation tends to increase its burdens until it can support 
them only with extreme difficulty, if at all. There are other 
physiological illustrations of the inertia of growth. Not only 
in the general increase in size on the part of the individual or 
the species, but also in the chemical and structural changes 
that go on in various parts of the body, do we see the tendency 
for growth to continue beyond the point of perfect adjust- 
ment. For example, the change of cartilage into bony tissue, 
by which the skeleton of the child gradually becomes capable 
of supporting and protecting the body of the man, depends 
on a chemical change in the constituents of the bones which 
continues until in old age it renders them brittle and fragile. 
1 See p. 31 . * Principles of Biology. 



Readjustment, its Conditions and Methods 43 

Professor Minot says of this transformation that it offers a 
" clear illustration of a principle of change in the very old which 
is, I take it, perhaps sufl&ciently well expressed by saying that 
the change which is natural in the younger stage is in the old 
carried to excess."^ The same writer maintains ^ that the 
processes of growth involve the differentiation or the develop- 
ment of special characteristics in the cytoplasm of the cells, 
a change that brings about a loss of the power of multiplica- 
tion that originally belonged to the cells, and without which the 
losses by decay and death in the differentiated cells cannot be 
made good. The inevitable result is senescence and death. 
Thus growth toward adjustment through differentiation con- 
tinues until it brings about a need for readjustment through 
rejuvenation, and a consequent initiation of a new cycle of 
differentiation in a new generation. 

From the point of view of education, a most important (3) special- 
example of the inertia of growth is found in the physiology of j^ ^j^^bit 
habit. Habit depends on the estabHshment of special path- forming, 
ways of discharge through the nervous system. These path- 
; ways are formed through the approximation or synapsis of the 
delicate nerve endings in the central nervous system. A nerv- 
, ous discharge which was at first sent diffusely through many 
I channels is in consequence conducted in the main through but 
I one. The synapsis involves a special supply of nutrition, and 
I this again involves the neglect, possibly the atrophy, of parts 
I not selected and exercised. Thus growth of one part is fostered 
at the expense of others. To that which hath is given. But 
I this specialized growth interferes with the power of readjust- 
J ment in case a shifting of conditions should make the resusci- 
( tation and functioning of the atrophied parts desirable. More ! 
j it may continue leading certain parts more and more to mo- 

I nopoKze the nutriment until other parts, the cooperation of 

I 

( * Age, Growth, mid Death, p. 22. 2 Compare Ibid., pp. 249-250. 



sense. 



44 Principles of Education 

which is essential to sustain the hfe processes, are no longer 
able to support the burden of their function, thus bringing 
about extreme instability, if not positive maladjustment, for 
the organism as a whole. 
(4) psychic Perhaps for our purposes the most important illustration' 
shown^°in °^ ^^^ inertia of growth is found in functional, especially 
the evoiu- psychic evolution. It is a commonplace that the process of 
wants of acquiring the ability to satisfy certain desires usually involves 
the creation of a number of new ones. To accumulate simply 
means to breed the desire to accumulate. The increase in 
wages of the workers brings with it an increase in their stand- 
ards of living, and they remain as discontented as before. 
Education often fosters discontent, for it increases desires 
faster than it supplies the means of their satisfaction. These 
platitudes of experience find their universal expression in the 
evolution of consciousness. With the development of power 
of movement, as we have seen, the function of sentiency is 
born, or, at any rate, expands from the primitive irritability 
of unicellular forms of life into the variety and richness that 
is correlated with the appearance of the various specialized 
organs of sense. The symbols that appeal to sense become 
invested with all the interest that in simpler organisms is 
reserved for conditions immediately affecting the vital pro- 
cesses. Thus the animal becomes absorbed, not only in the 
destruction or the building up of its body, but in whatever 
threatens the one or promises the other. Its wants have 
expanded to include an environment symbolic only of good. 
It fears and hopes. Its safety is secured at the cost of becom- 
ing entangled in the world of meanings. Among these mean- 
ings are pleasure and pain themselves, which, as premonitory 
of welfare and danger, come into greater demand the more 
extensive the resources of the organism for warding of? injury 
or attaining good may be. Thus life evolves from conditions 



I 



Readjustment, its Conditions and Methods 45 

in which the struggle with a hostile environment is simple and 
passive and slow to forms in which it is alert to a multitude 
of significances and intensely disturbed by them in order that 
reaction may be speedy and effective. It is a well-known 
fact of experimental psychology that reaction time is in a 
measure a function of the painful or intense character of the 
stimulus or of the clearness with which this is discriminated.^ 
Thus with the evolution of swifter activity we find that wants 
are not only multiplied, but become more sharp. They ex- 
pand from unconscious vital impulses into definite pains and 
anxieties. 

The development of cooperation and society, of prevision (&) wants of 
and the artificial environment, involves the same increase in ^"'^^^ •^' 
the complexity and, doubtless, in the intensity of our wants. 
The social individual must include in his desires the desires 
of society. Sympathy, mutual help, and morality involve a 
keen appreciation of the happiness and the misery, the welfare 
and the rights of others, and of our duties toward them. To 
be a social individual means to be incapable of contentment 
in the midst of the discontent of our fellows, no matter how 
satisfactory our adjustments are from the physical point of 
view. Christianity has conceived its leader as one whose inter- 
ests were as wide as humanity, and hence a "Man of Sorrows." 
So, too, he who labors now to create conditions to be utilized (c) vvants of 
in the future becomes by his foresight interested in a universe 
that for him who is absorbed only in satisfying his immediate 
needs cannot be said to exist. One who " looks before and 
after" is one whose "sincerest laughter" is "fraught with 
pain." The want that creates care comes with the intelli- 
gence that strives to fathom and forestall the future. 

In a sense the higher environments with their complexity 

^ Compare Henmon, The Time of Perception as a Measure of Differences in 
Sensation. 



46 



Principles of Education 



Higher en- 
vironments 
the product 
of higher 
functions 



Unforeseen 
results of 
functional 
evolution 



and variability and consequent demand upon our powers of 
readjustment are merely the product of the higher functions, 
the evolution of which is the result of the inner growth of the 
organism. The sense world cannot exist to the creature 
unendowed with senses, nor society to an organism without 
the instincts and the intelligence that enable the apprehension 
of other minds. The world of the future is a living reality 
only to those capable of prophecy. Nature to the amoeba 
is indeed a poor affair, but the man does not find himself in an 
environment that differs from that of the amoeba, except 
through his own increased power of apprehending it. Thus 
the functions and the corresponding wants summon the higher 
environments into reality, at least the only reality that is of 
any importance to the organism. 

But when the function has once called forth the new world, 
it finds this creation infused with a spirit of independence, 
intractable, variable with its own caprice, a veritable Eranken- 
stein. Thus, although with the ideaHst or the pragmatist 
we may regard the world of reaHty as an expression of mind or 
will, it is evident that when we come to cope with this universe, 
we are compelled with the realist to will or think it to be what 
it is. It is and remains a problem, a challenge to readjustment, 
even though it sprang into being because of the rise of powers, 
the immediate purpose of which was to efTect adjustment to 
lower conditions of Hfe. 

Environmental variabiHty may be characterized as the un- 
expectedness of the emergencies of life. The inertia of growth 
is merely a name for the same thing when we look at it from 
the point of view of the outcome of any effort toward adjust- 
ment. The conditions of growth are vaster than the imme- 
diate purpose of the grower. Hence growth does not cease 
when its immediate results are gained. The environment is 
not summed up in the definite situation which can be met by 



Readjustment^ its Conditions and Methods 47 

definite attainable methods. Hence it is exhaustless in its 
demands upon readjustment. But although we may agree 
that in the last analysis the inner and outer stimuli to growth 
are interdependent and in effect the same, it is not important 
to insist upon their identity in discussing the methods of read- 
justment or the concrete problems of education. Apparently 
the change in wants and functions and the change in external 
conditions of life are distinct and independent, and we shall 
not gain in treating our subject by thinking of them otherwise. > 

In conclusion, we may say that the occasion for growth or / Summary 
readjustment may be, not merely variation in the environ- y 

ment, but also changes incidental to the process of readjust- 
ment itself. These changes we sum up under the title, inertia 
of growth. They include the increased burdens entailed by 
general growth, the dangers incidental to prolonged chemical 
changes, at first useful or indispensable, the loss of power in- 
volved in differentiation of function and the formation of habit 
with consequent inability to repair loss, to readjust, to preserve 
the balance in vital activities, and finally the development 
with the evolution of new functions of new wants which involve 
intenser activities of readjustment than were necessary before. 
Thus not only from the point of view of the environment, 
but also from that of the inner activity of the organism itself, 
readjustment makes necessary more readjustment, evolution 
creates a tendency to faster evolution, education intensifies 
the need to learn. As the need for readjustment increases its 
methods change, and we shall now discuss forms that they 
assume. 

Section 6. Types of readjustment 

We have defined education as a process of readjustment. Two methods 
and have endeavored to set forth the conditions of such a ,°ustment 
process. But although education is readjustment, it is not of 



48 Principles of Education 

necessity true that all readjustment may be called a process of 

education. Strictly speaking, education is only one of the 

forms which readjustment takes. In the course of evolution 

another form has appeared to strengthen the resources that 

have enabled this function to cope with the more and more 

difficult problems that it has been compelled to face. 

(i) Educa- In the first place, it is evident that education is always a 

tinuous^*in- proccss of individual development. We might speak of racial 

dividual readjustment, which in contrast to this goes on by the process 

readjust- . 1 i • • • • 1 • i i 

ment 01 natural selection, operatmg upon variations which do not 

arise because of education, but are present at the beginning 

of the Hfe of the individual. Again, education is a more or less 

(2) Repro- continuous process of growth in the individual. Occasionally, 

discontinu- howcvcr, we note that readjustment is accomplished by a 

ous racial discontinuous process. Life persists, but there is a sudden 

readjust- i i • 1 • 

ment and revolutionary change in its form. This change is called 

reproduction, which is frequently characterized as discontinu- 
ous growth. Part of the body of the parent is, as it were, set 
aside, and begins hfe on its own account as a distinct individual. 
This change is frequently accompanied by the death of the 
parent. In any event, the life cycle of the offspring normally 
continues for a considerable period after its progenitor has 
perished. 

Now as continuous growth is normally a process of read- 
justment, we might assume the same of discontinuous growth. 
Thus Geddes and Thompson declare : — 

"Le Conte and others have pointed out that reproduction 
really begins with the almost mechanical breakage of a unit 
mass of living matter, which has grown too large for successful 
coordination. Reproduction, in fact, begins with rupture. 
Large cells, beginning to die, save their lives by sacrifice. 
Reproduction is literally a hfe-saving against the approach 
of death. Whether it be the almost random rupture of one 



Readjustment, its Conditions and Methods 49 

of the more primitive forms such as Schizogenes, or the over- 
flow and separation of multiple buds as in Arcella, or the dis- 
solution of a few of the infusorians, an organism, which is 
becoming exhausted, saves itself, and multiplies in reproduc- 
ing. In some cases, reproduction is effected by outflowing 
processes of the cell which have gone a little too far. Now, 
such primitive forms of multiplication, gradually becoming 
more definite, express a predominant katabolism in the unit 
mass. Reproduction in its simplest forms is associated with 
a katabolic crisis." ^ 

According to this view, then, reproduction occurs at a crisis Reproduc- 
when readjustment is necessary, and through it an effective at°'a°kata- 
adaptation is secured. Let us examine a little more carefully ^^^^^^ '^"^^ 
both the character of the crisis which reproduction alone can 
meet, and the methods by which it brings about readjustment. 

Reproduction is "associated with a katabolic crisis." Pre- 
dominance of destructive over constructive processes, when 
this becomes threatening or critical, forces this revolutionary 
change in form. However, ordinary continuous growth is, 
as we have seen, occasioned by some lack of adjustment between 
the wants and the supply. Katabolism is going on. The 
loss must be replaced, and with this replacement must come, 
if the organism be growing, some movement in the direction of 
greater efficiency in supplying the needs that waste or any 
other indispensable activity of life creates. But it is the crisis 
in katabolism that compels reproduction. Now a crisis must 
be a situation which the normal processes of continuous re- 
adjustment either aggravate or, at any rate, fail to help. 
Such a crisis we find may be brought about by revolutionary Causes of 
changes in the environment or by the inertia of growth or by boHc^^risis 
both. In general, however, it is evident that the inertia of 
growth is usually in some way concerned in the difficulty, 

* The Evolution of Sex, Ch. XVII, § 2. 



50 Principles of Education 

for it is in the inability of continuous growth to reverse itself, 
to change radically its direction or character, or even to cease 
to go on as it has, that makes impossible the readaptation «| 
when the extraordinary environmental change takes place. 

The most important revolution in conditions of Kfe that is 
concerned in forcing the katabolic crisis is seasonal change. 
Comparatively few organisms survive such change except 
through reproduction. On the other hand, increase in size, 
changes in the balance of parts or their chemical composition, 
or differentiation of structure, all are most fruitful sources of ■{ 
the critical situation. These forms of growth are all fostered 
by favorable environments, seasons of abundance. Thus 
we have the curious paradox that the katabolic crisis may 
result from very favorable conditions, through the promotion 
by them of processes of growth, the inertia of wliich carries 
the organism beyond the condition of perfect adjustment, or 
from very unfavorable conditions, where the needs of normal 
metabohsm cannot be supplied. Indeed, both conditions 
conspire, for the more extensive the growth during the favor- 
able season, the more unstable the condition of the organism 
to effect the adjustments necessary when the season of hard- 
ship appears. 
Results of a When we turn to the character of the readjustments effected 
katabohc j^y reproduction, we find great variety. The katabohc crisis 
may bring about four alternative results: (i) the death of the 
organism ; (2) the resolution of the total body of the parent 
into a number of smaller individuals ; (3) the disruption of the 
body of the parent into parts, one of which dies, while the other 
continues to live as one or a number of individuals ; (4) a 
Three advan- similar disruption with a continuation of life on the part of 
iesdtrof ^'^^ parent body for a certain period. In the three latter cases 
reproduc- reproduction has effected readjustment, either (i) by putting 
the surviving parts of the parent body in a condition capable 



tion 



Readjustment^ its Conditions and Methods 51 



lustrated 
in {a) smal- 
ler size, {h) 
protected 
form, 



of meeting changed life conditions, or (2) by relieving the 
tension due to the inertia of growth, or (3) by giving rise to 
offspring in which the direction of growth can be changed into 
ways impossible for the parent form to enter. Indeed, all 
these advantages may accrue from a revolutionary change in 
form. 

The first advantage may be gained from a mere reduction in The first ad 
size. The smaller organism may when food supply has become ^^^ ^"^ ' 
less abundant be able to sustain itself better than the larger 
one. This gain is illustrated in the fission of the amoeba, and 
is one of the most general advantages of reproduction. Again 
the reproduced form may be protected by a cyst or other 
covering, within which the germ may lie with vital activities 
temporarily suspended, but at the same time shielded against 
hostile cold, or scarcity of food or water, or even the attacks of 
enemies. The encysted protozoon, the seed, the egg, the 
cocoon, the placental protection of the mammal are all illus- 
trations of this form of adaptation ; except that in the two 
latter cases we have abundant food supply and a continuance 
of vital activities. 

The smaller size, the protected form, and the greater number 
of the offspring all contribute to effective dispersal of the 
species. Such dispersal may enable some of the new genera- 
tion to find a more advantageous habitat than that of the 
parent. This is particularly important in the case of plants or 
sessile animals, for the detachment of the reproduced form 
enables it to be scattered broadcast. Thus the plant accom- 
plishes through its seed what the animal does through move- 
ment. It readjusts itself through offspring that are not only 
protected so that Hfe is preserved indefinitely' even though 
conditions be severe, but are also in a form to be blown about 
by the winds or carried by water currents or by birds or other 
animals until some few encounter both the favoring season 



(c) means 
of disper- 
sal, 



52 



Principles of Edtuatio7i 



{d) other 
adaptations 



The second 
advantage 
of repro- 
duction as 
relief of 
organic 
tension 



and other conditions more advantageous than those which 
surround the abandoned parent. 

Dispersal may be favored by adaptations pecuKar to the 
reproduced form. Thus the seed may be equipped with wing- 
hke or downy structures to faciUtate flight, or it may be sur- 
rounded with food, the m.ain use of which is not to provide it 
with a store of nutriment when it starts Kfe anew, but rather 
to attract the birds or other animals which devour the food but 
disperse the seed itself. The last stage in the metamorphosis 
of insects is usually a winged form, and in many cases this form 
is very short-lived, existing merely to insure the dispersal of 
the eggs that it lays. 

Other adaptations gained by the reproduced form may fit 
it especially for those life conditions in which its vital activities 
are likely to be resumed. Thus the larval form of insects is 
invariably especially adapted to nourish itself on the food 
that is practically certain to surround it when it hatches out 
from the egg. This adjustment of the newly born to its food 
conditions is practically universal. Moreover, the protective 
coloring, the means of defense, and the instincts of the new 
generation fit it as a rule especially to its environments. 

The second advantage gained through reproduction is that 
of relieving the tension due to the inertia of growth. As such 
tension is an universal characteristic of the katabolic crisis, 
its relief is an invariable result of any form of reproduction. 
Especially where the parent survives the birth of its young 
do we find this advantage representing the gain, in fact the 
sole gain, of the parent form. But whatever be the immediate 
occasion of the katabolic crisis, and whatever the gain through 
reproduction to the parent form, it is evident that the repro- 
duced forms almost always possess special readjustments 
that give them at least ultimately a peculiar advantage over 
the parent in the struggle for existence. 



Readjustment^ its Conditions and Methods 53 

For the purpose of the theory of education the most impor- importance 
tant of these advantages is the third of those recounted above advantage 
as resulting from reproduction. In the offspring the direction of of repro- 
growth may be changed into ways impossible for the parent form rcjuvena- 
to enter. This change in the direction of growth is accom- <^°° 
plished for the most part through rejuvenation. The part of 
the parent body that is segregated is as yet undifferentiated. 
It is replete with possibilities of growth that have not been 
utilized. In it, therefore, the direction of growth can be 
changed to meet whatever variations in emergencies the for- 
tunes of Hfe have brought. 

It is probable that all reproduced forms are in a measure Reproduc- 
rejuvenated. Yet it is evident that in many the advantage invoi'ves^ a 
of rejuvenation is slight as compared with the specific adapta- degree of 
tion that is gained. The offspring are protected better, or tjon 
are in a condition favorable for dispersal, or possess some spe- 
cial characteristic in reference to methods of nutrition,, etc., 
that are not capacities to readjust but rather perfect adjust- 
ments. In respect to these advantages the offspring are as 
mature as the parent. They are not young. They are simply 
new. They are not rejuvenated but changed. 

On the other hand, there are many forms in which rejuvena- 
tion is the great advantage of reproduction to the offspring. 
While protective adaptations may exist for them, the need for 
protection arises largely from the fact of youth, the weakness 
of immaturity, and not especially as an adjustment to seasonal 
or other environmental change. They are born as they are, 
that the direction of growth may be changed into ways impos- 
sible for the parent form to enter. They begin again, and 
along different lines endeavor to meet the changes that cannot 
be successfully encountered along ancestral pathways. ments to 

It is plain that rejuvenation constitutes an essentially dif- determi- 
ferent method of readjustment through reproduction than do changes 



54 Principles of Education 

the others we have considered. Being a different method, it 
is capable of coping with a different ^sort of a situation. Such 
readjustments as exist perfected in the oft'spring at birth can 
evidently be adaptations to such changes only as occur with 
regularity, and can therefore be, as it were, anticipated by the 
organism. Periodic changes, whether these are a result of 
seasonal rhythms or of those physiological rhythms that seem 
bound up with the inertia of growth, are the only sorts of 
variation that can be met by a form of readjustment that is 
specifically determined beforehand. Natural selection would 
favor and fix a type the nature of which is to reproduce such ■] 
forms as are adapted to the changes that occur with regularity. 
Thus determinate forms of discontinuous growth become in- 
corporated in the heredity of the species in order to adapt it 
to determinate periodicities. 
Rejuvenation On the Other hand, the specific value of rejuvenation Hes in 
justaeiit ^^^^ ^^ enables the organism to meet indeterminate, unperiodic 
to indeter- changes. It restores a capacity for growth lost by the parent 
changes Organism as a result of differentiation. The result is that the 
reproduced form may seek its adaptation in ways quite dif- 
ferent from those developed in the parent, and in consequence 
it is in a better position to encounter situations that never be- 
fore have confronted the species. Whenever the lines of 
growth that have become defined in the parent are inadequate 
to new emergencies, reproduction is necessary. Whenever 
these emergencies are of such a nature that they cannot be 
anticipated by the heredity of the species, the reproduced form 
can gain no advantage from any adaptation save a rejuvena- 
tion that is in some way associated with a restoration of its 
capacity for growth. 

We are here not using the term, rejuvenation^ as meaning 
the restoration of any earlier form of the organism, but rather 
as the restoration of an earher capacity to become adjusted. 



Readjicstment^ its Conditions and Methods 55 

That the stage represented by a reproduced form occurred 
earHer in the Kfe of the parent does not mean that it is entitled 
to be called youthful. Reproductive adaptations to periodic 
changes involve revivals of earHer stages in the Hfe of the 
individual, but in so far as these adjustments are adequate to 
the preservation of the life of the new-born, they are not indi- 
cations of youth but of maturity. The earhest stage in the life 
history of an individual is, doubtless, as a rule the least dif- 
ferentiated and the most juvenile, yet there are many life 
histories in which this fact is not so much in evidence as are the 
specific adaptations by which the reproduced forms are able to 
maintain themselves independently of parental help. Hence 
the new-born are not of necessity youthful, and in many such 
forms rejuvenation is not apparent. It develops and becomes 
a striking characteristic of the early stage in the Hfe of such 
organisms as dwell in the midst of variations so indeterminate 
that they cannot be anticipated in the hereditary tendencies 
of the species. 

If we reflect on what has been said about the variabihty of Rejuvena- 
the emergencies that higher orders of life are compelled to face, ^''?^^ "^j^^" 
it is evident that with them adaptation through rejuvenation portant to 
would become more and more necessary. The rhythmic species ^^ 
changes of the seasons become less and less occasions for 
katabolic crises in the Hfe of the individual. Migration, 
society, artificial conditions of Hfe, all nulHfy their revolution- 
ary effect. But these higher environments involve, as we have 
seen, not less but more variabiHty. Moreover, this variabihty 
is increasingly indeterminate. Man can, indeed, say of his 
life that it is far more secure than is that of lower orders, but 
not that it is one in which he can predict the exact character 
of the emergencies of the morrow with anything like the same 
certainty. He wants so many more things, and his ways of 
getting them are so numerous and change with such rapidity 



56 



Principles of Education 



Variation as 
readjust- 
ment to 
indetermi- 
nate change 



Especial 
value of 
variation 
toward ca- 
pacity to 
learn 



Adaptation 
to deter- 
minate 
changes 
seen in life 
cycles of 
discontinu- 
ous growth 



from generation to generation. It follows that with him, and, 
indeed, with all the higher orders, rejuvenation is the leading 
if not the sole advantage that is enjoyed by the reproduced 
form. 

It may be objected that with the higher orders as well as 
the lower ones a very important gain from reproduction is 
found in the variations that new generations display. Among 
these may be found characters that render their possessors 
far better adapted to the existing conditions of hfe than were 
their ancestors. Thus reproduction can adjust to indetermi- 
nate change in other ways than by rejuvenation. On the other 
hand, it is evident that with the higher orders the variations 
that natural selection favors are more and more those asso- 
ciated with capacity to learn, intelhgence. Now it is for the 
sake of this power especially that rejuvenation exists. It is 
hard to teach an old dog new tricks or for the skilled workman 
to survive changes in machinery, or for the newly rich to assume 
the habits of those who are "to the manner born," or for the 
old fogy to remain efficient when life takes on new issues and 
demands new methods. Wherever readjustment that conflicts 
with existing habits of thought and action is necessary, there 
some sort of rejuvenation is the only resource, and that com- 
prehensive rejuvenation that comes with the birth of a new 
generation becomes most helpful. 

A comparison of Kfe cycles of organisms for which reproduc- 
tion yields definite adaptations with those of species where it 
is largely rejuvenation yields a striking contrast. A life cycle 
is a succession of stages in the life history of an individual 
or species, at the end of which the initial stage recurs and the 
cycle is again repeated. The resumption of the initial stage of 
the cycle is, of course, always by reproduction. But with 
species where reproduction finds its especial value in effecting 
determinate adjustment we may find an elaborate life cycle, 



Readjustment^ its Conditions and Methods 57 

each transition in which is brought about by discontinuous 
growth. The two typical forms of such life cycle are meta- 
morphosis and alternation of generations. Wherever one in- 
dividual assumes in succession a number of forms apparently 
utterly distinct in appearance and mode of Hfe, we have meta- 
morphosis. Whenever at each transition the parent form gives 
rise to a number of individuals of the new form, we have alter- 
nation of generations. 

Alternation of generations occurs in nearly all species of (a) Aitema- 
plants and in very many species of animals. In the ordinary erations an 
jellyfish we have as a first stage a sessile form, that grows under example 
favorable conditions, finally giving off in succession a number 
of buds that become free-swimming jellyfish. These even- 
tually produce offspring in the form of fertilized ova, that 
become attached to some object, and the series is again repeated. 
Such an alternation between free-swimming and sessile forms 
undoubtedly provides the best adjustment for the species. 
The sessile form is adapted to take advantage of abundant 
food supply in a certain locality. It grows until its powers of 
sustentation are taxed. Thereupon it buds, and the free- 
swimming forms thus given off can seek other environments 
removed from the competition of the parents, in this manner 
providing a wider range of food supply for themselves and 
insuring the dispersal of the species. 

In the remarkable case of the liver fluke there may be dis- The liver 
tinguished seven stages in development through the life cycle, iuus'trating 
as follows : (i) Eggs in the alimentary canal of the sheep. alternation 

/ N 1 1 J of genera- 

These are expelled from the body. (2) From them are hatched tions 
minute ciliated organisms that may pass into the bodies of 
water snails as parasites. (3) Here they become encysted. 

(4) From each cyst a number of minute organisms called rediae 
appear. These feed on the digestive organs of the snail. 

(5) They reproduce, and among the offspring are organisms 



4 



58 Principles of Education 

that pass out of the body of the water snail and swim about. 
(6) They leave the water and become encysted on blades of 
grass. These are eaten by sheep. (7) Being hatched out, 
they become parasites upon the liver of that animal. Here 
we have a most elaborate series of changes, the sum of which 
makes possible a very successful Hfe history on the part of the 
species in question. We have primarily a set of adaptations 
that enable the substitution of one host for another, so that the 
species may survive the death of either, an event quite likely 
to happen because of the havoc wrought by the parasite itself. 
We have all the apparatus of encysted forms and of ciHate ■ 
free-swimming forms that enables preservation in unfavorable 
conditions and dispersal. In short, we have well represented 
those devices by which successive, inevitable, and periodic 
crises in the Hfe processes of an organism can be met. 
{V) Metamor- The more familiar life cycle of metamorphosis illustrates the 
Hfe'^'cyde^ Same sort of readjustment. The egg, the larva, the cocoon, 
of discon- and the butterfly are as different as different species, yet they- 

tinuous . .,..,,,., 

growth are all m a sense the same mdividual, which, as it were, repro- 
duces itself, or suffers discontinuous growth at each crisis in 
its history. Indeed we might speak of the transformation as 
an alternation of generations where the reproduction is asexual 
and the offspring a single individual. Each stage in the meta- 
morphosis illustrates a readjustment to conditions that can 
definitely be anticipated by heredity. The eggs are protected 
against unfavorable conditions, but as a rule are deposited 
where with the recurrence of spring the food supply will be 
good. The larva represents a stage well fitted for taking 
advantage of abundant food, favorable weather, etc. When, 
replete with nourishment, it finds the food supply growing 
scanty, it assumes the protected form of the cocoon, from 
thence to emerge as the imago, winged for flight to favorable 
places for the deposition of its eggs. 



Readjustment^ its Conditions and MetJwds 59 



The life cycle 
of continu- 
ous growth 
as illustrat- 
ing adapta- 
tion to in- 
determi- 
nate 
changes 



When we contrast with these transformations the hfe cycle 
of an organism where reproduction fhicls its principal function 
in rejuvenation, we note a marked difference. The character- 
istic stages m the life history of such a creature are infancy, 
maturity, and old age. Here each stage is not an adapted 
stage, for infancy is characterized by lack of differentiation or 
adaptation, by immaturity. Again, each stage is not a result 
of discontinuous growth, for maturity is the product of the 
continuous development that goes on during the period of 
infancy. In metamorphosis the specific experience of the 
individual in an earlier stage does not determine its character- 
istic structure or peculiarities when transformed. As in all 
cases of discontinuous growth, the nature of the reproduced 
form is determined by heredity, and the experience of the parent 
form counts only through the general effect of good or bad 
nourishment, presence or absence of diseased tissue, etc. 
Continuity from one stage to another in the development of 
the individual is, of course, an indispensable condition for 
readjustment to indeterminate changes through rejuvenation. 

To sum up the discussion of this section, we may say that /Summary \ 
although all education is readjustment, it is not true that allV^ / 

readjustment is, properly speaking, education, for frequently 
this result is accomplished by a process of discontinuous growth. 
Discontinuous growth is, unless we except the case of meta- 
morphosis, identical with reproduction. It occurs at a kata- 
boHc crisis, or a period in the life of the organism when the 
destructive processes outrun those of building up, and the 
balance cannot be restored by continuous growth along pre- 
vaihng lines. A katabohc crisis usually springs from the co- 
operation of revolutionary changes in the environment with 
the maladjustment due to the inertia of growth, although either 
one or the other cause may be the dominant factor. Repro- 
duction may result in the rehef of the tension in the parent 



6o Principles of Educat-ion 

organism, thus insuring for it at least a temporary lease on 
life. The main advantage appears, liowever, in the reproduced 
forms, which are either readjusted forms or well suited to 
become so by continuous growth. 

The specific readjustments effected by reproduction are seen 
in means of protection or of dispersal, in adaptation to food 
supply, etc. Such adjustments may occur in a periodic series, 
thus giving rise to a hfe cycle of discontinuous growth, such 
as is found in alternation of generations or metamorphosis. 
These cycles adapt to determinate periodic changes in environ- 
mental conditions or inner growth, and hence to crises that 
can be met by hereditary provision for specific forms of dis- 
continuous growth. On the other hand, where the variations 
in the conditions of life occur in nonperiodic indeterminate 
ways, there the only advantage that can be gained by a repro- 
duced form is that of rejuvenation, or the restoration of an 
earher, less differentiated state in the hfe of the organism. 
From such a state a readjustment by continuous growth ■ 
impossible for the parent form can be effected in the young. 

The higher organisms live in environments relatively free 
from the revolutionary influence of specific periodic changes. 
Hence specific readjustment by reproduction, except by rehef 
of tension in the parent organism, is not characteristic of them 
to any marked degree. So, too, they do not show much evi- 
dence of the life cycle of discontinuous growth. On the other 
hand, their environments are exceedingly and indeterminately 
variable. Hence it is important that they should possess 
much power of continuous growth, and at the same time show 
in their reproduced forms a corresponding degree of rejuvena- 
tion. Only by the former power can the organism secure 
adaptation to its conditions. Only by the latter provision 
can the species effect readjustment to conditions that cannot 
be met along the prevailing lines of continuous growth. The 



Readjustment^ its Conditions a7id Methods 6i 

higher organisms, therefore, possess a life cycle characterized 
by continuous growth, the first stage of which is that of infancy. 
In fine, having said at the conclusion of the two preceding sec- 
tions that the higher environments are more variable and hence 
require of their inhabitants greater power of readjustment, 
we may now add that, since these variations grow increasingly 
indeterminate, the method of readjustment comes more and 
more to be through rejuvenation and education. 

Section 7. The theory of infancy 

The theory of infancy has come to be recognized as an in- 
tegral part of the theory of education. It is probably just to 
say that this is due to the discussions of John Fiske and Presi- 
dent Butler. The former says: — 

*'But this steady increase in intelligence, as our forefathers Fiske on the 
began to become human, carried with it a steady prolongation ^f^^f^ncy 
of infancy. As mental life became more complex and various, 
as the things to be learned kept ever multiplying, less and less 
could be done before birth, more and more must be left to be 
done in the earlier years of life. So instead of being born with 
a few capacities thoroughly organized, man came at last to 
be born with the germs of many complex capacities which 
were reserved to be unfolded and enhanced or checked and 
stifled by the incidents of personal experience in each indi- 
vidual. In this simple yet wonderful way there has been 
provided for man a long period during which his mind is 
plastic and malleable, and the length of the period has in- 
creased with civilization until it now covers nearly one third 
of our lives. It is not that our inherited tendencies and 
adaptations are not still the main thing. It is only that we 
have at last acquired great power to modify them by training 
so that progress may go on with ever increasing sureness and 
rapidity." ^ 

^ Excursions of an Evolutionist, pp. 315-316. 



62 



Principles of Education 



Fiske im- 
plies that 
infancy is a 
positive 
basis for 
learning 



Real value 
of infancy 
negative, 
consisting 
in remov- 
ing ob- 
structive 
adjust- 
ments 



A careful reading of this extract will reveal some confusion 
in the mind of its author as to the specific function of infancy. 
It is assumed that its value lies in enabling us to learn many 
things, to become adapted to a very complex environment. 
Since heredity cannot give us such a complex adjustment in a 
perfected form, Mr. Fiske thinks, we are given hereditary 
tendencies to be "unfolded and enhanced or checked and 
stifled." Now, as a matter of fact, there is no reason to suppose 
that heredity cannot transmit in the greatest profusion special 
adjustments. The only bar to such provision lies in the fact 
that they might not be the right ones. Mr. Fiske vaguely 
recognizes this in suggesting that the hereditary tendencies 
are to be modified "by the incidents of personal experience in 
each individual," yet in giving the reason for this arrangement 
he emphasizes the number and variety of things to be learned, ■ 
and not their variability from age to age. If it v/ere not for 
this indeterminate variability, there is no reason why the organ- 
ism should not be perfectly adapted at birth, and, indeed, we 
have seen that in such respects as can be specifically antici- 
pated the reproduced form is usually better adjusted than the 
parent one. 

Since infancy means immaturity, its primary value lies not 
in what it enables us to do, but in what it permits us to avoid. 
Immaturity does not mean power to learn many things, nor 
even anything. It means merely the absence of that which 
will prevent learning many things. Infancy does not signify in- 
telligence, for idiots can betray an immaturity from Avhich they 
never escape. It is true that without the need of readjustment 
that helpless infancy especially involves, intelligence would 
have no utility and hence no opportunity by which it may 
be evoked into being. On the other hand, there is no contra- 
diction between intelhgence and a fairly mature adjustment. 
It is only when readjustment cannot be effected without a 



I 



Readjustment, its Conditions and Methods 63 



revolutionary change in methods of thinking or acting that 
rejuvenation becomes valuable. In so far as readjustment can 
proceed continuously along the lines of earlier mental and motor 
growth the recurrence of the earlier, undifferentiated state is a 
positive loss. It is because intelligence and habit get into 
ways from which there is no exit when changed conditions 
demand further progress that infancy be comes desirable.. 
It is possible to conceive of methods of thinking and doing 
so soundly selected, and of intelligence so comprehensively 
equipped, that there could be for them no radical change in 
emergencies. To a species thus endowed rejuvenation would 
have lost its utility. 

If, then, infancy is a merely negative condition of power to 
learn, what are the positive grounds of this capacity? It is 
evident that they are not to be found in lack of differentiation, 
for this involves nothing beyond the negativity of immaturity. 
That vague term, plasticity^ must imply some positive qualities, 
as well as that of being at present amorphous. Some light will 
be thrown upon the nature of these capacities for growth by 
considering the physiological mechanism that lies back of the 
fact of infancy. It will be seen that tliis mechanism is a curious 
combination of both differentiation and its absence, of the posi- 
tive and definite structure and powers of maturity deprived 
of just that specific coordination and maturation which is 
necessary in order that they should function efficiently. 

In general, infancy involves a wholesale rejuvenation of the 
tissues of the body. Beginning in very primitive forms, the 
cells grow, multiply, and differentiate until the mature form is 
attained. For the most part this process is controlled by 
heredity. In so far as it is useful for the species that this 
hereditary control should dominate, the rejuvenated form is 
ordinarily protected against such external influences as would 
modify or check its inherent method of development. On 



Positive basis 
of power to 
learn lies 
in definite, 
though un- 
developed 
structures 
and func- 
tions 



The develop- 
ment of the 
young 
partly pro- 
tected from 
and partly 
exposed to 
educative 
influences 



64 Principles of Education 

the other hand, wherever it becomes desirable, in view of the 
likehhood of variations in conditions of Kfe, that the organism 
should be able to develop forms and functions different from 
those of its ancestors, there exposure to external influences 
before the functions in question have become mature is not 
only permitted but provided for. Thus we find that such 
powers as are designed to be affected by education have their 
maturation deferred until after birth, or, perhaps, the mere 
hereditary tendencies of the organism can never without the 
cooperation of use and training bring these powers to a spe- 
cifically useful state. 
Infancy de- Thus infancy involves on the one hand the deferred and on 
fiTthe^dT- the other the imperfect instinct. By a deferred instinct is 
ferring of meant one the physiological foundations of which do not ripen 
a instinc s ^^^.^ ^^^^ ^.^^ ^^^^^ ^^ individual has begun life in contact 

with environmental conditions similar to those in which the 
instinct will function. In case such an instinct is necessary 
for mature adjustment, its deferring means the infancy of the 
organism. The most striking illustration of such deferring is 
that of the reproductive instinct. Although this instinct is 
not necessary to the preservation of the life of the individual, 
the fact that it is deferred exposes it to the culturing influence 
of surroundings, just as much as though its non-appearance 
involved a genuine infancy. Indeed, there are many phases 
of the life of adolescence, such as enhanced sympathy, sense 
of responsibility, etc., which are closely interwoven with the 
ripening of the mating instinct, and are, we may properly say, 
necessary to mature adjustment to the social life of man. In 
so far, then, the deferring of this instinct may be said to involve 
genuine infancy, as well as to permit the modifying influence of 
education, 
and (6) in- Very clear cases of infancy because of the deferring of the 
stinctive development of native powers may be found in the instinctive 



Readjustment, its Conditions and Methods 65 

acts. In the following discussions a distinction will be Distinction 
made between these and the instincts. The instincts are the f^stTncTs 
functions of the organism considered from the point of view andinstinc- 
of the needs that they supply. Most lists of instincts are 
selected according to this conception, as the feeding instinct, 
the instinct of fear, of sociabihty, of acquisitiveness, of curios- 
ity. On the other hand, the instinctive act is a complex of 
movements that constitutes an hereditarily preferred method 
of carrying out one or many instincts. Crying, for example, is 
an instinctive act, and it may be resorted to as a means of 
satisfying the instinct of hunger, that of fear, that of sociabihty, 
and, indeed, almost any instinct that appears during the period 
when this type of activity prevails. Just as one instinctive 
act may be utilized by many instincts, so one instinct may 
function by means of a variety of tj^es of instinctive or habit- 
ual activity. Thus the instinct of fear may lead to a resort 
to the instinctive acts of crouching, lying still, or hiding, or that 
of fhght, or in extreme cases, perhaps, that of desperate fighting. 

Now the instinctive acts are fitted to the instincts to which Physiological 
they constitute hereditarily preferred expressions by coordi- orthVma- 
nations in the nervous system. Those parts the tension of turation of 
which involves the sense of want associated with the instinct andinstinc- 
are thus brought into connection with the muscles through which 
the instinctive act is performed. The maturation of the parts 
concerned in producing the tensions in question causes the 
corresponding instincts to emerge. The ripening of the nervous 
connections by which a certain group of movements is made to 
coordinate harmoniously to secure specific results means the 
maturation of an instinctive act, and this process ordinarily 
involves the association of the group of movements with one 
or more instincts, to which, in consequence, it constitutes a 
preferential response. 

A good illustration of a deferred instinctive act is that of 



tive acts 



66 



Principles of Education 



Walking a 
deferred 
instinctive 
act 



Infancy de- 
pendent on 
(2) the im- 
perfection 
of instincts 
and instinc- 
tive acts 



walking. Very early in its life the child moves its legs in ways 
anticipatory of the perfected ' coordination. Nevertheless, 
the actual perfection of the instinctive tendency is invariably 
delayed until the child is nearly a year old, and sometimes 
much longer. Usually the child learns to walk; that is, 
on the basis of an instinctive tendency as yet immature, it 
builds by experience certain habits that perfect the coordina- 
tion. On the other hand, certain cases cited by Kirkpatrick ^ 
indicate that children, who through some pecuKarity of mind 
or body have refused to attempt either to stand or walk imtil 
much beyond the usual age, may suddenly and without prac- 
tice of any sort perform these acts in a comparatively mature 
fashion. It follows that walking is not, as would seem from 
most children, an imperfect instinctive act, — that is, one that 
cannot be perfected by heredity alone, — but rather one that 
is merely deferred. 

But if the deferring of instincts or instinctive acts usually 
involves infancy until the hereditary tendencies have fully 
asserted themselves, even more does the lack of perfection 
in the instinctive tendency bring immaturity conspicuously 
before the attention. For a deferred instinctive act may ap- 
pear about as soon as it is needed, thus leaving no marked 
gap of maladjustment, whereas an imperfect one necessarily 
involves a period of learning, when the individual cannot do 
what is needed, and is, in consequence, immature, infantile. 
Both instincts and instinctive acts may be looked upon as 
imperfect, although this quality is more in evidence in the 
latter. An instinct may be imperfect through lack of defini- 
tion of its wants until these have gained direction through 
experiment and experience. The instinctive act may require 
further additions and reorganization by experimentation be- 
fore it can function effectively. 

* Fundamentals of Child Study, pp. 80-81. 



Readjustment^ its Conditioiis and Methods 67 



When we compare the lower and higher animals, we note 
especially the imperfection of the instinctive equipment of the 
latter. So great is this that it is a commonplace to speak of 
man as having not instincts but reason. Professor James ^ 
has in his usual striking way pointed out both this error and 
its occasion by showing that man has not fewer but many more 
instincts than any other animal, but that these instincts are 
more vague, more imperfect, more hkely to conflict with each 
other and to be modified or suppressed as a result of experience. 
Thus the immaturity involved in the human infant is brought 
about in such a way as to preserve all the specific forms of 
adjustment that are characteristic of the species. They remain 
as hereditary tendencies upon which the process of reconstruction 
can proceed, making such reorganizations as experience suggests. 
Here, then, we find the positive basis of power to learn. 

The physiological mechanism by which the instinctive 
tendencies are utilized as material for readjustment is in the 
higher vertebrates that of inter-segmental nervous connections. 
Of these Professor Donaldson says : — 

"Among the higher vertebrates the principal sense organs 
located exclusively in the head assume a greater relative im- 
portance, and the reactions of the entire organism become more 
and more subject to them. This depends upon the fact that 
the various centers distributed through the spinal cord become 
connected with the cells lying at the head end in such a manner 
as to be somewhat controlled by them. These connections 
are mediated by bundles of fibers, which, traversing as they 
do the length of the cord, disturb the segmental arrangement. 
Moreover, the great development of nerve elements in the cord 
at the regions where the nerves controlling the limbs are given 
off causes a very considerable enlargement, extending through 
a number of primitive segments. As a result of all these modi- 
fications, the primitive segmental character of the medullary 
tube is much obscured in man." ^ 



A rich equip- 
ment of im- 
perfect he- 
reditary 
tendencies 
the basis of 
power to 
learn 



Inter-seg- 
mental con- 
tinuity in 
central 



1 Principles of Psychology, Ch. XXIV. ^ j-he Growth of the Brain, p. i88. 



68 



Principles of Education 



Resulting 
power of 
readjust- 
ing reac- 
tions to 
stimuli 



Immaturity 
due to the 
diffusion 
of impulses 



This inter-segmental continuity means that any given sense 
organ may rouse the activity of 'any group of muscles in the 
body. Thus if one response fails to meet the situation in a 
satisfactory way, another may be resorted to. Here we have 
readjustment by the use of another than the hereditarily pre- 
ferred response when the latter fails. Moreover, the inter- 
segmental connections make possible a readier combination of 
movements of different parts of the body to effect a satisfac- 
tory adjustment. Finally and especially, since the senses, 
and particularly the higher senses, involve adjustment to stim- 
uli the significance of which varies with time and circumstances, 
that welding together through the central nerves of different 
parts of the body by which these senses are put in control must 
be accompanied by some loss of preferential associations between ■j 
stimuli and responses. Ability to readjust quickly means that 
certain connections can quickly be abandoned and others 
tried. As the development of central connections makes 
the nervous system more and more a unity, the inherent lines 
of connection lose more and more their tyranny of control. 

The concentration of nervous impulses along specific lines 
that lead to definitely adaptive action means maturity. The 
diffusion of these impulses means immaturity. The more 
variable the conditions the organism is adapted to meet, the 
greater must be the tendency for nervous impulses to be re- 
leased from the domination of heredity in regard to the paths 
they pursue, and to diffuse readily into many paths. Com- 
plexity of nervous interconnections thus involves a sort of 
democratic equality among them, an initial equality which is 
replaced by such preferential arrangements as experience may 
determine. Thus we have the imperfect instinct in order that 
the ultimate adjustments of the individual may be more largely 
habits acquired by himself, and not so much the mere redupli- 
cation of the instinctive methods of his ancestors. 



Readjtistment^ its Conditions and Methods 69 



This primitive tendency toward diffusion becomes especially 
evident in man because of the enormous development in him of 
cerebral control. Quoting again from Professor Donaldson: — 

"The study of the lower vertebrates after injury to the dif- 
ferent divisions of the central nervous system shows that in 
those forms in which cephalization is but little advanced the 
primary centers of the cranial nerves when alone present may 
assume a guiding control over the remainder of the system. 
It thus follows that a frog after loss of the cerebral hemi- 
spheres can still direct its jumping movements so as to avoid 
a visible obstacle in its path ; in other words, impressions 
reach the central nervous system of such a frog through its 
eyes, and these impressions influence the reactions of the mus- 
cles of the hind legs despite the absence of the hemispheres. 
In man, on the other hand, the parts of the brain corresponding 
to the optic lobes of the frog do not represent a locality in which 
such connections are established, so that in him the hemi- 
spheres alone do the work which in the less specialized form 
may be performed by the lower centers. In this connection 
we naturally inquire how the cerebral hemispheres may have 
acquired in the higher vertebrates capabilities which belong 
to them in a less and less degree as we descend from man 
through the zoological scale. In the higher forms it appears 
that incoming impulses, instead of passing over in the primary 
centers to cells which discharge downwards, pass to a group of 
afferent central cells which carry impulses to the cortex, that 
with the reorganization of this second pathway the first be- 
comes less possible, and thus the function is transferred, 
though the causes determining the growth of the central cells 
on which the change depends are still obscure." ^ 

However obscure the cause, the value of the change is ap- 
parent. For the cerebrum is the great center of universal 
interconnections between sense organs and muscles. More- 
over, all these connections have to a great degree that initial 
equality which is the parent of diffusion, immaturity, and the 



Cerebral con- 
trol in man 



Cerebral con- 
trol as a 
cause of 
diffusion 
of impulses 
and hence 
of infancy 
and of 
power to 
learn 



1 The Growth of the Brain, pp. 254-255. 



70 Principles of Education 

need and power of learning. The animal that controls his 
body almost entirely by his brain must, therefore, learn to 
control it. We know now that the wriggling of the child is 
due not so much to superabundant vitaHty, as to diffusion of 
nervous currents, lack of coordination. Hence its instinctive 
tendencies are vague and imperfect, and in so far as they are 
deferred they may be anticipated by habits that may not only 
modify them, but actually check them or prevent their ap- 
"\ pearance.^ 
Summary To Summarize this section, we note that the advantage of 

y infancy hes not in that it enables adjustment to many things, 
but in that it paves the way for readjustment when conditions 
change radically, as they do in the higher environments. In 
itself infancy means immaturity, a negation, and as such it 
does not involve capacity to learn. This positive power is, 
however, dependent in great measure upon the physiological 
mechanism that has given rise to and prolonged infancy. The 
rejuvenation in the young of the higher species is not merely 
a return to an undifTerentiated form. It is that plus an heredi- 
tary tendency that enables rapid development of mature 
adjustments Hke those of the parent. In so far as it is in gen- 
eral well that the young should be like the parent, the infant 
organism is usually protected, so that the hereditary tendency 
can alone determine its development. Whenever, on the 
other hand, it is likely that a change of adjustment will prove 
desirable in the young, there the individual is before or during 
the development of its hereditary tendencies exposed to envi- 
ronmental influences similar to those in which the mature be- 
ing will function. 

Thus both infancy and the capacity to learn result from a 
deferring of the instincts and the instinctive acts. But we 
have yet to describe the mechanism by which exposure to en- 
^ Compare James, Principles of Psychology, Ch. XXIV. 



Readjustment^ its Conditions and Methods 71 

vironmental conditions can change the drift of the hereditary 
tendency. This is to be found in the higher organisms espe- 
cially in the development of elaborate interconnections in the 
central nervous system and of an initial equality of permea- 
biHty among Hnes of association. Thus there results an early 
diffusion of impulses and lack of coordination, but the ulti- 
mate outcome is preferential associations or adjustments that 
are due to experiment and experience rather than to heredity. 
The highest phase of this initial diffusion of impulses makes its 
appearance when we have cerebral control. Here the instinc- 
tive tendencies are not only deferred, but they cease to be 
capable without the control and guidance of experience of 
developing into mature adjustments. They are imperfect. 



CHAPTER III 

HEREDITY AND EDUCATION 

Section 8. Differentiation of heredity and education 



Race adapta- The discussions of the preceding chapter may all be sum- 
tion per- marizcd in the conception of race adaptation. The individual, 

manent, in- ... 

dividual ad- unlcss wc cxccpt some of the simplest forms of life, is only tem- 
temporary po^arily adjusted so that it can maintain its life. Nature 

seems to have abandoned the problem of effecting readjust- I 
ments to variable environments by continuous growth, and in 
resorting to discontinuous growth to have substituted the 
adaptation of the race or the species for that of the individual. 
The man has only a temporary, a fleeting adjustment, the ■ I 
race has one that is comparatively permanent, perhaps eternal. 
Heredity the Racial adjustment is made by means of a mechanism that 
source of prescrvcs continuity through the discontinuity introduced byiBI 
tinuity reproductiop. The fundamental factor in the preservation 
of this uniformity is heredity. Heredity may be defined 
as the inherent tendency on the part of the reproduced form 
to resemble in structure and function its progenitors. This 
resemblance consists of three factors: the likeness between 
parent and reproduced form, the likeness between the off- 
spring and an earlier stage in the life of the parent, and the 
inherent tendency on the part of the offspring to develop along 
It adapts to the Kncs of growth of the parent. These resemblances exist 
the abidmg ^q preserve continuity, wherever this is possible, and they may, 
therefore, be said to adapt the race and the individual to such 
life conditions as remain invariable age after age. 

72 



Heredity and Education 



73 



On the other hand, as life advances into more and more 
variable environments its capacity for continuous growth 
increases. This is necessary because these higher variabilities 
are not periodic and capable of being specifically anticipated, 
but indeterminate and to be met only by a great variety of 
resources for readjustment. As the individual learns he uses 
up these resources and thus tends to disqualify himself for 
readjustments that involve a radical change from the habits 
already acquired. Hence the capacity to learn, which enables 
rapid and complex readjustment, leads the individual into 
perilous crises in case the adaptations thus gained are such as 
fit him to conditions that change in a revolutionary manner. 
It follows that capacity to learn on the part of the individual 
must, to insure race adaptation, be coupled with capacity 
for rejuvenation on the part of the race. 

Race adaptation in indeterminately variable environments 
impHes, therefore, a sharp separation between that which is 
inherited and that which is left to be acquired through individ- 
ual experience. Heredity adjusts to the abiding and the 
periodic, education to that which cannot specifically be antici- 
pated. The physiological mechanism by which this separa- 
tion is effected is that of the isolation of the germ cells from 
the body cells, so that the former are, in great measure at least, 
protected against those influences that mold the body cells 
of the parent.^ The result is that the offspring begin life with 
substantially the same inheritance as that with which the 
parents began. They do not to any appreciable extent dis- 
play the influence of the life history of the progenitor. In the 
language of biology, acquired characteristics are not inherited. 

It is not intended here to take a radical stand on this point. 
However, one does not need to be an expert biologist to see 
that with human beings very few if any acquired characters 
^ Compare Weissman, The Germ Plasm. 



Education 
adapts to 
the tempo- 
rary and is 
a source of 
discon- 
tinuity 



Hence, ac- 
quired char- 
acters 
should not 
be to any 
extent in- 
herited 



U 



Acquired 
characters 
plainly not 
inherited 
to a marked 
degree 



74 Principles of Education 

are inherited. The great mass of such traits, language, man- 
ners, methods of dress, occupations, — nay even morals and 
ideals, — must be relearned by each new generation with pain- 
ful effort. The task of education seems like that of Sisyphus ; 
no sooner is it accomplished for one generation than it must 
be resumed with a new one. The descendants of nobles very 
quickly assume the manners of the lowly born when hard con- 
ditions bring the children in close contact with humble com- 
panions. On the other hand, the marks of descent of a self- 
made generation do not remain to confute the aristocratic 
pretensions of their offspring. 

The significant thing for a theory of education is that for 

the most part each new generation has to acquire anew the 

habits learned by its parents, — or different ones. It is of 

relatively small importance whether among this mass of 

acquisitions of a parent there may or may not be found a rare 

^^ occasional trait that somehow gets ingrafted on the heredity 

of the stock, and is thus transmitted to the young by the mere 

fact of their being born. The evident fact that such traits 

are, to say the least, infrequent, means plainly that the race 

is better off without the ready embodiment in heredity of the 

manifold characteristics that a high degree of capacity for 

education enables the individual so quickly to assume. 

Lack of at- The Utility of the non-inheritance of acquired characters is 

the value 3. matter to which very little attention has been devoted among 

of the non- thosc who havc discusscd the facts. This has been due to a 

inheritance 

of acquired Variety of rcasous, perhaps the least important of which is 
characters ^^^ ^j^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ \\2M^ thought of it. A fundamental reason 
is, doubtless, the scientific sense, which is reluctant to explain 
the value of anything before it is definitely settled that this 
thing is a fact. Another important cause of the neglect of the 
value in question Hes in the great emphasis that has naturally 
been thrown upon learning as the only intelligible ground of 




I 



Heredity and Education 



75 



variation. Thus it has seemed that the inheritance of acquired 
characters is so far from being undesirable that it is the only 
source of racial variation and progress. This difficulty will 
be considered later. Here we may note that a few scientists 
have attended to the positive evils that would spring from such 
inheritance. 
Professor James says : — 

" In the mental world we certainly do not observe that the James on the 
children of great travelers get their geography lessons with incompati- 
unusual ease, or that a baby whose ancestors have spoken such in- 
German for thirty generations will, on that account, learn heritance 
ItaHan any the less easily from his ItaHan nurse. But if the "^^^^ 
considerations we have been led to are true, they explain per- 
fectly well why this law should not be verified in the human 
race, and why, therefore, in looking for evidence on the sub- 
ject we should confine ourselves to the lower animals. In 
them fixed habit is the essential and characteristic law of nerv- 
ous action. The brain grows to the exact modes in which it 
has been exercised, and the inheritance of these modes would 
have in it nothing surprising. But in man the negation of all 
fixed modes is the essential characteristic. He owes his whole 
preeminence as a reasoner, his whole human quaHty of intel- 
lect, we may say, to the facihty with which a given mode of 
thought in him may suddenly be broken up into elements which 
recombine anew. Only at the price of inheriting no settled 
instinctive tendencies is he able to settle every novel case by 
the fresh discovery by his reason of novel principles. He is, 
par excellence, the educable animal. If then the law that habits 
are inherited were found exemplified in him, he would, in so far 
forth, fall short of his human perfections ; and when we sur- 
vey the human races, we actually do fmd that those which are 
most instinctive at the outset are those which on the whole 
are least educated in the end." ^ 

Professor James, according to the view previously presented, 
errs in confining the value of non-inheritance of acquired 

^Principles of Psychology, Vol. II, pp. 367-368. 



76 



Principles of Education 



Ball on the 
bad effects 
of use in- 
heritance 
among 
brutes 



characters to man. Wherever an organism dwells in an envi- 
ronment that varies in indeterminate ways, there the differen- 
tiation between those permanently useful adjustments that 
heredity may safely hand on, and those incidentally valuable 
ones that might prove a bar to readjustment, and may, in conse- 
quence, better be left to be acquired by the individual, should 
exist. The wider application of the principle is brought out 
by Mr. William Piatt Ball. 

"The effects of use, indeed, are generally beneficial up to a 
certain point ; for natural selection has sanctioned or evolved 
organs which possess the property or potentiality of develop- 
ing to the right extent under the stimulus of use or nourish- 
ment. But use inheritance would cumulatively alter this 
individual adaptability and would tend to fix the size of the 
organs by the average amount of ancestral use or disuse rather 
than by the actual requirements of the individual." ^ 

Concrete cases of such possible ill effects of the inheritance 
of the effects of use are given in the following extract : — 

"Use inheritance would crudely and undiscriminatingly 
proportion parts to actual work done — or rather to the vary- 
ing nourishment and growth resulting from a multiplicity of 
causes, and this in its various details would often conflict most 
seriously with the real necessities of the case, such as occasional 
passive strength, or appropriate shape, lightness, and general 
adaptation. If its accumulated effects were not corrected by 
natural or sexual selection, horns and antler would disappear in 
favor of enlarged hoofs. The elephant's tusks would become 
smaller than his teeth. Man would have callosities for sitting 
on, like certain monkeys, and huge corns or hoofs for walking 
on. Bones would often be modified disastrously. Thus the 
condyle of the human jaw would become larger than the body 
of the jaw, because as the fulcrum of the lever it receives more 
pressure. Some organs (like the heart, which is always at 
work) would become inconveniently or unnecessarily large. 

^ Are the Effects of Use Inherited? pp. 132-133. 



Heredity and Education 



77 



Use inherit- 
ance es- 
pecially 
detrimental 
to man 



Other absolutely indispensable organs, which are comparatively 
passive or very seldom used, would dwindle until their ruin 
caused the weakness of the individual or the extinction of the 
species. In eliminating various evil results of use inheritance 
natural selection would he eliminating use inheritance itself.''^ ^ 

When we turn to the case of humanity, Professor Ball finds 
these characteristic difficulties intensified. 

**It (use inheritance) is often mischievous as well as anoma- 
lous in its action. Under civilization with its division of labor, 
the various functions of mind and body are very unequally 
exercised. There is overwork or misuse of one part and disuse 
and neglect of others, leading to the partial breakdown or 
degeneration of various organs and to a general deterioration 
of health through the disturbed balance of the constitution. 
The brain, or rather particular parts of it, are often overstim- 
ulated, while the body is neglected. In many ways education 
and civiKzation foster nervousness and weakness, and under- 
mine the rude natural health and spirits of the human animal. 
Alcohol, tobacco, tea, coffee, extra brain work, preservation 
of the weak, and many other causes help to undermine the 
modern constitution; so that the prospect of cumulative 
intensification of these evils by the additional influence of use 
inheritance is not an encouraging one." ^ 

The utility of such a differentiation of heredity and education view that ac- 
as makes inevitable little if any inheritance of acquired char- characters 
acters seems patent. On the other hand, the evolutionist is, are the 
as we have seen, confronted with the difficulty of accounting that enable 
for the origin of the variations on the basis of which alone prog- evolution 
ress through natural selection is possible. To say that these 
were originally acquired characters seems like so easy a way 
out of this difficulty that many are loath to discard the possi- 
bility of such inheritance, and to return to the night of ignorance 
concerning the prime cause of evolution. Other explanations 
of the cause of variations seem simply to beg the question. 
^Are the Effects of Use Inherited? pp. 128-129. "^ Ibid., p. 151. 



78 Principles of Education 

This alone has the merit of apparently affording a clear and 

definite cause, if, indeed, it prove a true one. 

ariation Howcvcr, a Httlc reflection on the nature of the process of 

as a basis learning or acquiring characters may serve to dispel the notion 

for the ^^<^ ^yg jg gQ simple and fundamental an affair that it would, 

power to 

learn new if wc Only could usc it, afford a lucid explanation of the origin 
things ^£ ^^^ characters. In fact, the process of learning is not a 
process of creating new powers or traits. On the contrary, 
^ it is simply a process of selection. One can learn only as he 
has the capacity to learn, and a capacity to learn is positive 
and definite, a true character, without which the so-called 
acquiring of characters cannot go on. Paradoxical as it may 
sound, we can acquire only what we in a sense already possess. 
We can learn to do only that which we can do, and learning 
consists simply and literally in selecting from among our 
potentialities those which are best fitted to achieve successful 
results in the various situations of life. 

As this proposition will in the succeeding discussions be 
repeatedly taken up in order that from a new point of view 
it may be explained, amplified, and defended, it will be uneco- 
nomical here to enlarge upon it. We may, however, note two 
things. In the first place, the conception in question is merely 
an application of a principle laid down in section 3, that 
growth is the development of inner powers under the stimulus 
of a lack of adjustment to the conditions of life. The environ- 
ment does not explain, nor eveii suggest the processes by which 
an organism becomes adapted to it. It merely stimulates 
these processes and determines which shall survive. Second, 
since the process of learning is itself founded on capacity for 
variation, to ascribe the origin of variations to the acquisi- 
tions of the individual is to beg the question only a little more 
subtly than when one attributes them to chance. 

In the last analysis, perhaps, it will prove necessary simply 



I 



Heredity and Education 79 

to assume on the part of life an inevitable tendency to vary, inherent 
to develop hidden potentiahties, to display the unexpected, ^^e^ten^^ 
Given this tendency, three conceptions have been formulated dency to 
as to the manner in which it reveals itself. These have been ^^^ 

called the theory of chance variations, that of orthogenesis, Three con- 
and that of heterogenesis.^ P^P^^f " °^ 

" ^ ^ Its char- 

The theory of chance variations regards the tendency to acter 
vary as displaying itself in slight departures on the part of the 
offspring from the norm of the parent. SHght differences in 
form, size, proportion of parts, composition of tissue, etc., 
appear and may be ranged around a medium type. With 
respect to any single character the number displaying a certain 
variation wiU be in a general way inversely proportional to the 
extent of this variation from the normal. Thus we have 
Galton's curve of distribution.^ There will be very few very 
tall or very short men, more who are moderately tall or short, 
and most who are about the average height. 

In order that sHght variations may lead to evolution we must Evolution by 
have the cooperation of some form of selection. Of this there ria^fo'n ^^' 
are many types, notable among which are the demonstrably and its 
existent natural and artificial selection, and the hypothetical 
sexual, germinal, and organic selection. Of all these agencies 
natural selection is the one which must be reHed on most to 
account for the origin of species ; and right here arises a diffi- 
culty. It is hard to see that the slight chance variations from 
the norm of the parents which can everywhere be found in the 
oflfspring would be sufficient to assure the possessors of any 
of them an advantage in the struggle for existence such as 
would insure their survival when others perish. Unless some 
slight variations possess, this survival value there would be 

^ For an admirable presentation of these views consult Kellogg, Darwinism 
To-day. 

^ Compare Natural Inheritance. 



8o 



Principles of Education 



Organic 
selection as 
giving sur- 
vival value 
to slight 
variations 



Organic 
selection as 
disinte- 
grating 
and build- 
ing up in- 
stinctive 
acts 



no tendency for them to accumulate under the influence of 
selection until they really could produce a radical change in 
the character of a species. 

An ingenious hypothesis to assist in surmounting this diffi- 
culty is that of organic selection, suggested by Professors 
Baldwin^ and Osborn in America and Lloyd Morgan in Eng- 
land. According to this theory, slight variations, which in 
themselves would have no survival value, may, if they are 
possessed by an organism that has at the same time consider- 
able power of accommodation or learning, be developed through 
culture until they actually are of great service. The survival 
of such accommodating organisms would insure the survival 
of the traits upon which the process of readjustment is founded. 
Any variation in succeeding generations toward rendering 
these traits more pronounced would make the process of accom- 
modation through them more sure, more swift, and more easy. 
Such variation would therefore have selection value, and might 
ultimately so develop the trait that it would function advan- 
tageously without any assistance from accommodation. 

Professor Groos^ has called attention to the possibility that 
the power to learn might, instead of favoring the accumula- 
tion of variations in the direction of perfecting an instinctive 
act, operate in just the other way. By rendering it unneces- 
sary for the organism to possess perfect hereditary adjust- 
ments, the capacity to learn permits and, indeed, encourages 
the disintegration of perfect instinctive acts in order to favor 
the power to readjust. Baldwin recognizes this point, and 
meets it by showing how the power to learn, which manifests 
itself especially in the form of imitativeness, might lead to the 
gradual perfecting of certain instinctive acts and the disinte- 
gration and plasticity of others. 

^ Compare Development and Evolution. 
2 Compare The Play of Animals. 



Heredity and Education 



8i 



"If an imperfect instinct is in the way of developing for a 
marked utility, imitation, by supplementing it, would undoubt- 
edly aid its survival and evolution (to a perfected form). 
Yet, on the other hand, if an instinct is in process of decay, — 
or if the conditions make its decay desirable, — Professor 
Groos's principle would then come into operation."^ 

The special condition under which we might expect a perfect 
instinctive act to decay would unquestionably be the develop- 
ment of an indeterminate environmental variability, such as 
would make it desirable for each individual to begin life with 
tendencies to be perfected as circumstances suggest, rather 
than with fixed adjustments that are either unmodifiable or 
to be changed only with difficulty. The higher environments, Higher 
involving many new, complex, and variable conditions, would 
logically favor such a change, and progress into them would 
bring with it decay of perfect instincts and instinctive acts. 
Practically this is accomplished by the development of cerebral 
control, — which] has already been discussed,^ — and the cor- 
responding loss of inherited preferential connections. This 
change makes it possible to utilize any simple reaction wher- 
ever it may prove useful, and thus to estabhsh new habits and 
new organizations of habits. 

It is likely that this tendency is rather more common in the 
higher reaches of evolution than is that of the fostering of vari- 
ations by the power of accommodation until they may accumu- 
late into perfect instinctive acts. However this may be, it is 
evident that the latter sort of organic selection would suit 
only conditions where new environmental factors possess a 
stability that makes a fixed adjustment to them a continuously 
valuable asset. In that event, the insecurity of the immature 
condition and the wear and tear of learning would both be 
minimized by the transformation of such slight variations as 



en- 
vironments 
as favoring 
the disin- 
tegration 
of instinc- 
tive acts 



^ Development and Evolution, p. 29. 

G 



^ Compare § 7. 



82 Principles of Education 

are useful only when supplemented by accommodation into the 
perfect forms of adjustment that -function in a fairly adequate 
way without any intervention on the part of culture. Thus 
selection would tend to favor variation in the direction of per- 
fecting the instinctive tendencies. 

The operation of organic selection would, therefore, follow 
the general principle that heredity adapts to the permanent 
and education to the transitory. Wherever in the course of 
evolution new environments present abiding factors, there 
heredity advances to perfect an adjustment. Whenever, on 
the other hand, transitory conditions are to be met, there 
education is furnished with an initial capital of imperfect, 
plastic, alternative tendencies, and left to complete the work 
of readjustment. Inasmuch as organic selection is based on 
power of accomm.odation, and this in turn finds its use in con- 
ditions of indeterminate variability, we might expect that such 
selection would tend to promote those variations that are useful 
to education, and thus to bring about the disintegration rather 
than the perfecting of instincts. 
Orthogenesis The advantage of the conceptions of orthogenesis and of 
and hetero- hetcrogcnesis over that of chance variation lies in the fact 

genesis can ° 

effect prog- that they do not need, at least to such a degree, the support of 
out seiec- some form of selection in order to explain evolution. Ortho- 
tion genesis means a tendency to vary in the direction of useful 

functions rather than merely at random. Heterogenesis 
signifies a tendency toward radical change such as would bring 
about very suddenly entirely new varieties. If there be ortho- 
genesis, selection is unnecessary to account for the origin of new 
species, for the inherent tendency to vary is self-directed toward 
the evolution of new and better forms of adaptation. If there 
be heterogenesis, selection might destroy those sports that are 
ill adapted, but it would be unnecessary to account for either 
the origin or the preservation of the tjqpe of those that can 



Heredity and Education 



83 



live. The inherent tendency to vary displays itself occasion- 
ally in the rise of a new type that breeds true. 

It is not at all unlikely that the tendency to vary takes all 
three forms. There is much random variation, which selec- 
tion converts into new and better adaptations. Again, the 
variation may, from the beginning, have tended rather toward 
the better than the worse ; or it may have come to do so be- 
cause the tendency to variation in an orthogenetic manner has 
a survival value and other tendencies have been eliminated 
by natural selection. Finally, extraordinary forms do occa- 
sionally appear ; variation sometimes proceeds by leaps, and 
among the new creations thus arising there may well be some 
that are even better adapted than the parent forms. 

The effect of sex may be expected to strengthen all these 
tendencies. By mixing strains of heredity it would, as has 
generally been supposed,^ increase the amount of variation. 
Where conditions remain stable for a long period, there effi- 
cient type forms would, by continual elimination of weaker 
variants, become practically universal and uniform. Here 
the tendency towards light variations might well be orthoge- 
netic. Inbreeding seems to strengthen dominant characters. 
Thus since the dominant traits are those securing adjustment, 
variation that tends especially in their direction might properly 
be regarded as orthogenetic, — at least until by what might 
be called a sort of racial inertia of growth the point of most 
advantageous adjustment is passed. On the other hand, 
where conditions are revolutionized, there selection, by favor- 
ing rapid change, would destroy the dominance of the older 
adjustments in behalf of the variants, and the mixture of 
heredity in variant types would rapidly create conditions of 
heterogenesis. 
In resume, we may say that for any organisms that in- 

1 Compare Weismann, Essays on Heredity. 



Combination 
of the 
forms of 
variation 
as likely 



Sex as pro- 
moting all 
types of 
variation 



84 Principles of Education 

habit indeterminately variable environments education be- 
comes differentiated from heredity as the agency by which 
adaptation to the changing conditions is brought about. ■ 
This involves the non-inheritance of acquired characters, a 
result which is attained by the segregation of the germ plasm 
from the body plasm. Thus heredity everywhere comes to ■; 
adapt to the abiding, while education is left to deal with the 
transitory. Many biologists are loath to admit the non-inheri- 
tance of acquired characters, in spite of its evident utiHty, 
because only thus, they think, can we account for the varia- 
tions through which evolution is made possible. They fail 
to note that the process of education itself is one of selecting 
from among the potentiaHties of the individual those best suited 
to the conditions of Hfe. Hence it must assume the existence 
in the individual of a power to vary or of variations. It is 
just as difficult to account for the variations that make educa- 
tion possible as it is to explain those through which heredity is 
improved. It is necessary to assume an inherent tendency 
on the part of living things to vary. Three theories exist as 
to the character of these variations : one, that of shght chance 
variations; a second, that of a tendency to vary toward the 
better, or orthogenesis; and a third, that of an occasional ten- 
dency to vary greatly so as to produce immediately what are 
practically new varieties. All three types of variation probably 
exist. Chance variation can produce no evolution unless 
supported by selection. The forms of selection especially 
important are natural and organic selection. The latter en- 
hances the survival value of small variations by using them 
as a basis for accommodations. It thus enables them to accu- 
mulate into perfect instinctive acts or to bring about the dis- 
integration of such acts into imperfect instinctive acts, as the 
exigencies of the times make it advantageous to trust these 
characters more to heredity or more to education. Finally, 



Heredity and Education 85 

under the influence of sex, orthogenesis would be more apt to 
prevail in times of stabihty, whereas heterogenesis would ap- 
pear in revolutionary epochs, bringing into existence in these 
crises such changes as may alone be adequate to insure 
survival. 

Section 9. Heredity as a basis for education 

We have seen that capacity to learn is a positive rather than Hereditary 
a negative thing. In the old, this capacity may be exhausted, character 
In the young, it is restored by rejuvenation. It is part of their to leam 
hereditary equipment because it is an invariably useful pro- 
vision, more or less adequate, from the resources of which they 
are to find the material for their specific adjustments or else 
fail and perish. This capacity for education is probably found 
to some extent in all living beings. Professor Jennings says 
of the infusoria : — 

"The same individual does not always behave in the same Universality 
way under the same external conditions, but the behavior °^ ^^^^ 
depends upon the physiological condition of the animal. The among 
reaction to any given stimulus is modified by the past experi- animals 
ence of the animal, and the modifications are regulatory, not 
haphazard in character. The phenomena are thus similar 
to those shown in the learning of higher organisms, save that 
the modifications depend upon less complex conditions and 
last a shorter time."^ 

The same statements were shown by Professor Jennings to 
apply to the amoeba.^ His evidence seems to indicate some- 
what conclusively that animals at least can all learn. In gen- 
eral, this power seems to involve the ability on the part of the 
organism to change its customary reaction to a certain stimu- 
lus under the guidance of experimentation. Such accommoda- 
tion in turn involves a sensitivity to the success or failure of 

' Behavior of the Lower Organisms, p. 179. ^ Ibid., pp. 24-25. 



86 



Principles of Educatio7i 



Factors in 
learning 



Function in 
learning 
of the in- 
stincts and 
the action 
system 



The action 
system il- 
lustrated 
in the 
stentor 



reactions, and a capacity under the feeling of failure to resort 
to a different response. For the sake of clearness in treat- 
ment the factors in this process may be analyzed into four : 
(i) the instincts or wants of the organism ; (2) its action 
system, or equipment of resources by the use of which it can 
meet these needs ; (3) a sensitivity that takes account of the 
existence of lack of adjustment, and both inhibits such re- 
sponses as prove unsuccessful and stimulates experimentation 
in the direction of other ones ; (4) a physiological arrangement 
whereby a ready utilization of the resources of the action 
system may be brought about imder the stimulus of dissatis- 
faction, and new associations of stimuH and responses quickly 
made strong under the influence of the opposite feeling. 

The first two of these factors do not of themselves imply 
any power of learning. However, they furnish the materials 
upon which the operation of the last two depends. Hence the 
number of its instincts and the extent of the resources of its 
action system determines directly the versatility of the learn- 
ing organism. We have already defined the instincts as the 
functions or wants of the organism,^ and have shown how each 
may become effective through a variety of instinctive acts, 
just as any instinctive act may be used to satisfy many instincts. 
Upon the number and variety of the instincts will, of course, 
depend the range of situations which may call for readjust- 
ment. On the other hand, upon the number and variety of 
the elements in the action system will depend the richness of 
the resources for readjustment, the number of things that 
can be learned. 

The expression action system is borrowed from Professor 
Jennings.^ A good illustration of an action system may be 
found in that of the stentor, the behavior of which is described 



^ Compare § 7. 

2 Compare Behavior of the Lower Organisms, p. 300. 



Heredity and Education ^'j 

by the same author.^ The stentor is a minute, trumpet- 
shaped, aquatic animal, which is usually attached at its foot 
to some object on the bed of a body of water. Its food is car- 
ried through its flaring head or mouth down into its body 
by currents of water, which may be set in motion or controlled 
by the movements of cilia or hairs that cover the animal's 
surface. If undesirable foreign substances are introduced 
into the water and enter the mouth of the stentor, it may bend 
over, thus getting its mouth in a different place. If the ob- 
noxious elements continue to disturb it, it may try to remove 
them by reversing the movement of the cilia. If this fails, 
it may contract temporarily. Finally, as a last resort, after 
repeated trials and delays, it may break loose from its attach- 
ment, and swim away to a more favorable locality. 

Here we have in a very simple organism four alternative 
methods of meeting a specific situation. These exhaust its 
list of resources for learning, so far as this case is concerned. 
It cannot learn to meet the emergency in any other way than 
has been provided for it by heredity. But higher organisms Complicated 
have far more compHcated action systems. Hence their pow- ofThe^ac- 
ers of learning are correspondingly increased. They possess a tion sys- 
complicated set of muscles, to which are attached a great 
variety of adaptive structures, such as teeth, horns, protective Corre- 
armor, hoofs, etc. Of all these the most extraordinary in the spondmg 

' ' •' resource- 

possibilities of adjustment that they involve are the hand and fulness in 

the vocal organs in man. Through the hand man is able to ^^"^"^s 
extend to an almost inconceivable degree the artificial resources 
of adaptation which make up what we have called the artificial 
environment.^ Tools, clothing, weapons, shelter, fire, — all 
that enormous array of instrumentalities by which man im- 
proves upon the equipment with which nature provides him, — 
are very considerably dependent on the remarkable versatility 
1 Ihid., pp. 170-179. ^ Compare § 4. 



S8 Principles of Education 

of the hand. They give to man an action system incompa- 
rably richer than that of any lower animal. 

Just as the hand, when reenforced and controlled by ade- 
quate physical and mental power, enables an enormous expan- 
sion of the action system in the way of artificial resources, so 
the vocal organs, when given similar support, put at man's 
disposal, to such a degree as to revolutionize his Hfe, an action 
system consisting of methods of social cooperation. Very 
little that man does fails to utilize in some way such methods, 
and his extraordinary efficiency in the use of social devices 
rests on his ability to communicate. 
Intelligence The use of the hand and the vocal organs to accomplish 
an adjunct g^,,]^ results is, of course, so dependent upon intelHgence that 

to the . 1 r 1 11- 

action sys- the scrvants are almost lost to sight from the overwhelmmg 
higher'' ani- interest in the master. It will be thought that among the 
mais resources of the action system by far the most significant is 

mental abihty. Such is, indeed, the case, and later in our 
discussion ^ an endeavor will be made to analyze the function 
of intelligence, and to determine the point of view from which 
it constitutes part of the resources for action. That matter 
may here, however, better be left as a promise, in order not to 
compHcate too much the consideration of the rudimentary fac- 
tors in learning, which is the object of the present section. 
Interdepend- The possibiHtics in the way of learning depend, on the one 
Snaf and hand, on the number and variety of the instincts and, on the 
action other, on the richness of the resources of the action system, 
system 'phegg two factors are in great measure interdependent. We 
have already shown in discussing the evolution of wants ^ 
how new types of reaction, when they arise, bring with them 
new needs. The power of movement brings with it that of 
sensation to direct it, and this in turn makes its possessor dis- 
satisfied with unfavorable conditions in regard to the symbols 

1 Compare Chs. V, VII, VIII, etc. ^ Compare § 5. 



Heredity and Education 89 

of sense. These become quite as important to the adjustment 
of the individual as are the fundamental conditions of life 
which they more or less immediately and accurately represent. 
The expansion of the action system to include apparatus for 
swifter and more prolonged movement involves the expansion 
of the functions or instincts to include the need of a satisfac- 
tory environment of sense. A need could not arise unless there 
were methods by which it could, in part at least, be met, and 
the mechanism by which such methods are carried on could 
scarcely long survive any need for their use. This interde- 
pendence leads to the customary appHcation of the term 
junction indifferently to the wants and to the means by which 
they may be satisfied. Nevertheless, just as we have here 
Hmited the term instinct to the need, so perhaps it will be in the 
interest of clearness to regard the function as the instinct. To 
speak of an instinct as a function, then, simply emphasizes 
the fact that it is endowed with an equipment of activities 
for its realization. Thus we preserve the distinction between 
the needs and the action system, while recognizing their inter- 
dependence. 

The value of this distinction comes especially in evidence Factors con- 
when we pass on to the discussion of the last two factors which '^^™^<^. 

^ solely in 

were included in our analysis of the condition of learning. effecting 
These are, sensitivity to lack of adjustment, and a physiologi- ment"^'^ 
cal provision for utilizing other than the customary reactions 
to meet a certain situation. Here we come upon that part of 
the hereditary equipment of the organism which exists solely 
for the sake of readjustment, or learning. It is possible to 
imagine a creature with a complicated action system and a 
complicated set of instincts, or needs, but with the responses 
so perfectly adjusted to the stimuli that there never would be 
any occasion for readjustment. Moreover, the same creature 
might have these reactions so mechanically attached to their 



90 Principles of Education 

respective stimuli that no others could be substituted. Such a 
being could not readjust. ^ 

In our hypothetical complicated being with many reactions 
but no power of readjustment, there would be no occasion to 
distinguish between the needs and the action system. Such 
a creature would be like a machine, having no needs, and, 
except for the purposes of some one who uses it, no functions. 
It would operate, but not in any true sense react. The dis- 
tinction between the needs, uses, instincts, or functions and 
the action system becomes real and important the moment 
we consider the possibility of refitting the latter to the former. 
Then it becomes a vital distinction, indispensable to a compre- 
hension of the nature of the learning process. As we have 
seen, the needs and the action system expand together. Each 
new instinct involves a group of typical activities, through 
Power to which especially it is able to function. The essence of power 
learn as ^^ learn Hcs in the power to use new activities to function at 

capacity to ^ 

utilize ex- the bchcst of old instincts as well, or, as is quite as frequently 
powers in dcsirablc, to be able to use old forms of activity in the inter- 
new uses gg^ Qf j^^^-^ purposes. Under such circumstances alone do the 
number and variety of the instincts and of the resources of 
the action system become determinative of the degree of the 
power to learn. 
Its physio- The physiological arrangement that makes possible a ready 
logical basis j.ggQj.|. £j.qj^ ^-^^ ^.q another of the resources of the action sys- 
tem is a central system of nerves bringing together the various 
segmentary circuits in the nervous system. The evolution 
of this central connecting system has already been discussed 
in connection with the evolution of infancy.^ Given such a 
system, and the readiness of learning depends on the absence 
therein of preferential associations between stimuli and re- 
sponses. Wherever owing to heredity or training such prefer- 

* Compare § 7. 



Heredity and Education 91 

ential associations exist, there the power to utilize other than 
the associated responses is in part interfered with, and rendered 
slow or difficult. Heredity, therefore, endows one with capacity 
to learn by the gift of a central nervous system with which all 
parts of the sensory and motor apparatus are closely connected, 
and in which the preferential associations tend to be few or 
feeble and the amount of diffusion in nervous currents cor- 
respondingly great. 

This primitive equality of permeability among the lines of 
discharge in the central nervous system is accompanied by a 
like degree of sensitiveness on the part of the nerves in regard 
to the success or failure of any reaction. It is probable that 
both the tendency toward diffusion and the increased sensitive- 
ness are closely associated with lack of well-established synapses 
among the nerve endings and a large proportion of gray matter 
in the nerve centers. The theory that associates the chemical 
activities of tliis gray matter both with the energies of read- 
justment among the nerve associations and the phenomena 
of feeling and cognition seems in a general way, at least, in 
accord with facts. In that event, the hereditary basis for 
education includes unformed synapses and much gray matter. 

We have spoken of the action system as evolving in the race Learning as 
under the pressure of specific needs, to meet which the power eniarcin-°'^ 
to perform new types of activity appears. Their develop- the action 
ment is not learning, nor is it primarily for the sake of learn- 
ing. The power on the part of the individual to learn means, 
then, in the first instance, not the power to do new things, 
but rather that of doing old things in response to needs not 
hitherto associated with these reactions. However, there is 
a sense in which this power quickly to readjust the action 
system to the needs involves an actual increase in the resources 
of the former. This springs from increased power of perform- 
ing coordinations of movement. A combination of movements 



92 



Principles of Education 



Dissociation 
and recom- 
bination 
of the ele- 
ments of 
the action 
system 



may be so different in character and function from any of its 
constituent elements as to rank %s a distinct type of activity, 
a separate constituent of the action system. Therefore, the 
resources of such a system are composed not only of what 
might be called certain elemental movements, but of all sorts 
of possibilities in the way of their coordination. A nervous 
system that connects various parts of the action system 
enables coordinated movements. One that learns permits 
the formation of new coordinations. From both causes we 
have a positive addition to the resources of the action system, 
an increase in the number of combinations made possible. 

We may for the sake of analysis distinguish easily two cases 
in which learning increases the number of coordinations: (i) 
Muscles moved naturally in unison may be brought to move 
separately, and in combinations where each moves differently 
from the others, as when the movements of the fingers are 
dissociated and each takes up a different task responding to a 
distinct factor in the stimulus. Such new coordinations are 
well illustrated in piano playing, in typewriting, in speech, 
etc. (2) Serial coordinations may be built up in which the 
stimulus to each successive movement arises from the perform- 
ance of its habitual predecessor rather than from the percep- 
tion of some external object such as ordinarily arouses the 
act. Thus, in spelling, the writing of a letter may be suggested 
by the general thought of the word plus the feeling of the 
writing of the preceding letter, rather than from the thought 
of the letter to be written. As a result of dissociation and 
association such simple serial rhythms as walking, running, 
etc., are broken up and reorganized into the complicated 
coordinations of dancing and the like. Thus the complex- 
ity of both simultaneous and serial coordination is continually 
increased by dissociation of factors naturally fused and the re- 
organization of these into new combinations. 



Heredity and Education 



93 



plexity of 
movement 



The development of complexity of movement parallels that Method of 
of complexity of consciousness. As the latter begins with a tionofcom 
vague, undifferentiated mass of sensation, and proceeds through 
analysis and under the stimulus of succeeding experience to 
break this into perceptions and sensations, images, and con- 
cepts, and all the rest of the complicated content of mature 
consciousness, so movements are at first crude mass movements 
rather than coordinations, and later through analysis and 
new syntheses they become the fine adjustments of skill. A 
similar history appears in the evolution of a species. Professor 
Loeb has spoken of instinctive acts as ''bundles of reflexes,"^ 
thus implying that the simple elements preceded the complex 
organization, and that by their union they make it up. The 
more usual case is where the reflex represents a special minute 
adjustment that is evolved in the course of the development 
and organization of instinctive tendencies. Professor Jennings 
points out that the actions of primitive organisms are not, 
strictly speaking, reflex. This is because "the reaction to a 
given stimulus depends on the physiological state of the organ- 
ism, not alone on its anatomical structure ; and physiological 
states are variable." - The movements of simple forms of 
life resemble instinctive activities rather than reflexes, in 
that they spring from some general need of the body and 
involve a movement of at least a large part of it, in that they 
depend on internal conditions quite as much as upon external 
stimuli, and in that they are replaced by other movements 
in case the first reactions are unsuccessful. The reflexes in 
the higher organisms represent localized reactions that are 
in great measure rendered necessary because of the develop- 
ment of special organs with such definite adjustments to exter- 
nal conditions that the control of these adjustments is largely 



1 Comparative Physiology of the Brain. 
^ Behavior of the Lower Organisms, p. 280. 



94 Principles of Education 

a matter of mere mechanical reaction to outer stimuli. The 
accommodation of the lens in the eye to the distance of the 
perceived object is apparently an ideal example. However, 
even this mechanical reaction is dependent not only on the 
external stimulus, but also on the internal condition of mental 
attention, and such reflexes as winking and sneezing can 
be utilized in emergencies far different from those to which 
they are the automatic response. Thus the reflex, speciaHzed 
though it may be, is susceptible to a certain amount of internal 
control and to utilization for other than its specifically appro- 
priate emergencies. 
Power to The powers of coordination and of learning to coordinate lie 

basis for back of the differentiation of the action system. This is 
the differ- ^j-^g f qj- ^^ ygj-y simple reasou that specialization is impossible 

entiation of . , , ^ . , 

the action without coopcratiou. Differentiation and integration are 

system complementary, and for successful living inseparable. Thus 
the evolution of a central nervous system with its powers of 
organization and reorganization means the evolution of the 
condition under which the action system is permitted to dif- 
ferentiate and become highly specialized. The enlargement 
of the resources of learning comes as an outgrowth of the 
capacity to utilize these resources in readjustment. Central 
coordinating power not only enables the addition of complex 
movements to the simple ones already possible, but it opens 
the opportunity for the evolution of new simple adjustments 
so specialized as to be useless until they are combined with 
others. 
Learning as We havc spokcn of learning as though it were concerned 

tioTof tTe solely in the refitting of the action system to the instincts. 

instincts Such is, indeed, its primary function. The service of sensi- 
tivity to this process is merely that of stimulus and guide. 
However, sensitivity has a second function, in which it co- 
operates with the power of association to modify and differ- 



Heredity and Education 95 

entiate the instincts which it serves. We learn to be sensitive 
to conditions that were not at first provocative of unrest. 
We cease to feel the force of wants that earlier tended to over- 
master us. Thus we learn not merely to satisfy instincts in 
ways other than the customary ones, but also to change the 
relative vigor of our original instincts as a result of the conflicts 
and associations of experience. 

It has been the purpose of this section to state the simplest Summary 
hereditary conditions of learning, leaving elaboration to sub- 
sequent discussions. We have seen that power to learn de- 
pends on the number and variety of the instincts, on the one 
hand, and on the resources of the action system, on the other. 
But this complex equipment would not help the possessor 
in learning unless he also were endowed with the power to 
readjust the action system to the instincts. Such power comes 
through sensitivity and a central system of nerves affected by 
all the wants, and in turn capable of stimulating all or most 
of the responses that the individual can make. Both condi- 
tions are met in the domination of the cerebral cortex with its 
abundance of gray matter and its multitudinous paths of 
association. Defining automatic, reflex, and instinctive acts 
as hereditarily preferred reactions to certain instincts, the 
forms of activity of those who can learn would tend less and 
less to be of such a character, and so devoted solely or mainly 
to the use of single instincts, and to become more and more 
random results of diffused nervous discharges, calculated to 
evince many new uses and thus to furnish the material for the 
new or acquired preferential associations of habit. 

Moreover, the power of coordination of such a central 
nervous system enables an expansion of the action system 
through the addition of new complex organizations of activity 
to the simple primitive ones, and through offering an oppor- 
tunity for the evolution of specialized activities that would 



96 Principles of Education 

be useless except in large coordinations. Finally, the associa- 
tive power of the brain permits us to learn not only how to 
satisfy our wants, but also what it is better to want. Thus 
we may reorganize the ranking of the factors to which sensi- 
tivity is attached, and this again is an important phase of 
learning. 



Section 10. Education as supplementing heredity 



41 



The function of heredity is, of course, essentially conserva- 
tive. The discontinuities established because of reproduction 
it mends in part by restoring to the young about the same 
equipment of adjustments and resources as that with which 
the parents began Hfe. It is racial habit, — that upon which 
the species can rely as comparatively permanent, — as a 
capital not to be impaired by the gains or losses of any gen- 
eration. In proportion as environments are indeterminately 
variable, these acquired characters become numerous and 
indispensable to mature Hfe. Many, indeed, most of them, 
Human it might be of advantage to preserve. Each generation has 

need "^to re- ^° learn habits of speech, of manners and morals, of occupa- 
learn most tions, of drcss, and of countless other things that it might seem 
quired ccouomical for them to get by heredity. However, the indis- 
characters pensable Capacity for readjustment must be bought, even at 
parents such a price. 

On the other hand, the waste is, in part at least, remedied 
by the function to enable which it is incurred. The greater 
the power to learn, the more readily the new generation can 
regain such of the acquired characters of its parents as seem 
necessary or desirable. The process of learning these ancestral 
ways is, of course, education, and in performing this service 
education is a conservative agency and supplements heredity. 
This function of education is, however, a secondary one. 



Heredity and Education 



97 



From the point of view of the individual, learning is always 
readjustment, change, ordinarily progress. When, however, 
this process concerns itself with relearning the characters 
previously acquired by the parent, education becomes from 
the point of view of the race a factor making for conservation 
rather than for advance. Education devoted to this secondary 
function we may call recapitulatory. 

Recapitulatory education that takes place by the hard 
method of unassisted individual experience has nothing about 
it except its conservative effect to ally it with heredity. But 
when agencies appear that tend to aid it, these may well be 
regarded as instrumentalities of heredity as well as of educa- 
tion. Such an agency is social intercourse, by which the young 
of a species endowed with power to learn may acquire with 
greater rapidity the practices of their ancestry. The relearn- 
ing of the acquired characters of the race through the aid of 
social intercourse has been aptly called by Professor Baldwin 
"social heredity." ^ 

Save when it takes the form of social heredity, recapitula- 
tory education is very limited in scope. However, society is, 
as it were, ready and waiting to perform this function. Ca- 
pacity to learn, the non-inheritance of acquired characters, and 
the immaturity of infancy involve each other. But infancy 
involves parental fosterage, and this means, as Mr. Fiske 
points out,2 the existence of society, at any rate in the form 
of a family consisting of mother and offspring. The coopera- 
tion of the male parent in the care of the young makes it 
possible for them to be even more helpless, and hence there 
results to the species the advantage of greater power to learn. 
Society has a selection value because of the importance of the 
educabihty that it makes possible, and even though it had no 

' Mental Development, Social and Ethical Interpretations, Ch. II. 
* Compare Through Nature to God. 



Recapitula- 
tory edu- 
cation as 
supple- 
menting 
heredity 



Social hered- 
ity as an 
aid to re- 
capitula- 
tion by 
education 



Interdepend- 
ence of 
society and 
education 



98 Principles of Education 

other function this would doubtless account for the tendency 
of evolution in its direction. But the social intercourse that 
exists primarily to foster the immature during the period of 
learning is utilized to hasten the process of reacquiring the 
parental habits. Parental fosterage enables the growth of 
capacity to learn, and tliis in turn profits by the social inter- 
course that it requires. Thus such intercourse becomes 
parental training, and social heredity is born. 

The interdependence of society and education will be dis- 
cussed further in the next chapter. The aim of this section 
is to point out, first, how education repairs the loss incurred 
for its own sake, and in the form of recapitulatory education 
supplements heredity by handing on acquired characters ; 
and second, how society, indispensable to the protection of 
immature infancy, combines with the capacity to learn to 
aid the process of recapitulation, thus giving rise to social 
heredity. 
Advantage It wiU be interesting to note that social heredity revives 

over physi- somcwhat the inflexibility of its physiological prototype. It 
oiogicai constrains the individual to follow conservative methods, 
even though, if untrammeled, he might find better ones. 
However, there is this advantage. Physiological heredity 
can be modified only by the slow and savage process of natural 
selection working upon variations in the drift of heredity it- 
self. On the other hand, social heredity, however tyrannical 
it may be, can be revolutionized if man so wills. In general, 
it occupies, so far as regards the conservatism of its effects, 
an intermediate position between physiological heredity, on the 
one hand, and uncontrolled individualism, on the other. The 
complex question of its evolution will be resumed in the next 
chapter. 



Heredity and Education 



99 



Section ii. Education as antagonizing heredity 

In spite of all her safeguards Nature usually endows her Persistence 
children with a partially undesirable physiological inheritance. abieTeredi- 
For this case there are two remedies : Either selection may tary traits 
root out those who are seriously handicapped, carrying with 
them their prospective progeny, — a procedure good for the 
race but severe on the individual, — or education, more kind 
to the victim of a bad inheritance, may strive to protect both 
him and society from its dangerous consequences. 

Among the undesirable inheritances we may include both 
instincts and instinctive acts. Some wants may with evolu- 
tion, and especially with advance to civilization, become less 
important. Indeed, many of the minor instincts may cease 
to be desirable at all. Fear and anger are certainly far less 
useful than they have been, and, if not largely suppressed, do 
more harm than good. Christianity maintains that the special 
instinct for vengeance should disappear altogether. Various 
cults have made war upon this or that instinct, so that very 
few have escaped the hostility of some ideaHsts. It may 
safely be said that enhghtened humanity favors a far different 
adjustment among the inherent desires than Nature is wont 
to provide. The undesirabihty of native tendencies is still 
more evident in the case of the instinctive acts. Civilization 
has Httle use for the inherent methods of gratifying fear, anger, 
curiosity, sexual love, rivalry, etc. In respect to them educa- 
tion has not only the task of estabHshing approved habits, but 
also that of breaking up old preferential associations. 

In discussing the question of how this control is brought Types of in- 

, a stinctive 

about we may begin by considering a classification of mstmc- survivals 
tive acts from the point of view of their history and general 
function, (i) A great number of them retain for man to-day 
their original use in the way of bringing about desirable rela- 



loo Principles of Education 

tions with objects in the environment. This use may be 
quite as great as it has ever been in the history of the species; 
for example, such acts as nursing or walking. On the other 
hand, it may have come to be comparatively rare, as in the 
cases of striking from anger, or of flight from fear. (2) Many 
instinctive acts have wholly lost their original use. Such is 
probably true of unfleshing the teeth, or biting from anger, or 
paralysis from fear. Acts of this class are either simply sur- 
vivals with no present function, or they have been transferred 
to the social use of indicating to others the state of mind of the 
person who performs them. The instinctive expressions have 
had in most cases this social value from the beginning. With 
evolution, the other uses, if they existed, have disappeared, 
leaving only that of expression. (3) With the growth of power of 
association instinctive acts may come to constitute the response 
to stimuli analogous to those to which they were originally 
attached. Professor James calls this the "principle of react- 
ing similarly to analogous-feeling stimuli."^ An illustration is 
the making of a wry face when some disagreeable situation 
appears, although it may not in the least appeal to the sense of 
taste. (4) Finally, we have that large class of internal disturb- 
ances that constitute, according to the James-Lange theory^ 
the basis of the emotions. They affect mainly the processes 
connected with the circulation of the blood, secretion, digestion, 
and respiration. Their function is in many cases plainly to 
further the external acts by which the situations that arouse 
the emotions may be satisfactorily dealt with. Thus the 
roused heart beat may furnish the increased blood supply 
for more vigorous action. 

Professor Dewey is inclined to attribute to these internal 
emotional disturbances the general function of providing the 
energy that stimulates and fosters readjustment. 
'^Principles of Psychology, Ch. XXV. 



Heredity and Education 



lOI 



"Whenever there is difficulty in effecting adjustment of 
means and ends, the agent is thrown into a condition of emo- 
tion. Whenever we have on one side the idea corresponding 
to some end or object, and whenever we have on the other side 
a stirring up of the active impulses and habits, together with 
a tendency of the latter to focus themselves at once upon the 
former, there we have a disturbance or agitation, known on 
its psychical side as emotion. It is a commonplace that, as 
fast as habit gets definitely formed in relation to its own 
special end, the feehng element drops out. Now let the usual 
end to which the habit is adapted be taken away and a sudden 
demand be made for the old habit to become a means toward 
a new end, and emotional stress at once becomes urgent. 
The active side becomes all stirred up, but neither discharges 
itself at once, without any end, nor yet directs itself toward 
any accustomed end. The result is tension between habit 
and aim, between impulse and idea, between means and end. 
This tension is the essential feature of emotion. 

"It is obvious from this account that the function of emo- 
tion is to secure a sufficient arousing of energy in critical peri- 
ods of the life of the agent. When the end is new or unusual 
and there is great difficulty in attending to it, the natural 
tendency would be to let it go or to turn away from it. But 
the very newness of the end often represents the importance 
of the demand that is being made. To neglect the end would 
be a serious if not fatal matter for the agent. The very 
difficulty in effecting the adjustment sends out successive 
waves of stimuli, which call into play more impulses and hab- 
its, thus reenforcing the powers, resources, at the agent's com- 
mand. The function of emotion is thus to brace or reenforce 
the agent in coping with the novel element in unexpected and 
immediate situations." ^ 



Organic emo- 
tional dis- 
turbances 
due to ten- 
sion be- 
tween habit 
and aim 



Such tension 
useful in 
stimulat- 
ing read- 
justment 



It is evident that each of these four classes of instinctive 
acts may prove disadvantageous to its possessor. In general, 
the utiUties that have remained most stable are those con- 
nected with expression and with the emotional disturbances 

^ Interest in Relation to the Training of the Will. 



Present need 
of control 
of most in- 
stinctive 
acts 



I02 Principles of Education 

that further readjustment. Instinctive methods of getting 
results have with civihzation come under the ban, and have 
been replaced by habits far more consonant with social welfare. 
Even the instinctive forms of expression are usually replaced 
by quieter methods, and the emotional disturbances are feared 
lest they lead to a loss by the will of its grip upon conduct. 

We have already spoken of variation and selection as help- 
ing on in the process of removing hereditary obstacles to success. 
There can be Httle doubt that these agencies have been through- 
out the evolution of civilization at work slowly to transform 
the instinctive equipment of the advancing races. According 
to Sutherland: — 

"The moral instinct, therefore, is, in social animals, the 
result of that selective process among the emotions which 
tends to encourage those that are mutually helpful and to 
weaken those that are mutually harmful."^ 

Selection accomphshes this result, not merely by the elimi- 
nation or subordination of instinctive acts hostile to social 
welfare, but also by encouraging their evolution into deferred 
or imperfect tendencies. Thus it opens the way for control 
by education. 
Two methods In the cudcavor to master the hereditary activities two 
ii!i-*instinc- i^cthods have been employed by education : one negative, the 
tive acts other positlvc. The negative method bends all its energies 
Defects of toward a direct suppression of undesirable reactions. As 
tive"^^^^' these are for the most part closely associated with emotional 
method disturbances, negative discipline aims at asceticism, or, better, 
indifferentism. This policy is generally recognized to be 
faulty in the extreme. It neglects to take account of the fact 
that the tendency to react to situations in some positive way 
is inevitable. Inhibition is never by mere ehmination. Its 

^ Origin arid Development oj the Moral Instinct, Vol. II, p. 304. 



I 



I 



Heredity and Educatio7i 



103 



primary result is, as Professor Dewey says, emotional disturb- 
ance, and its secondary one, some consequent reaction. Thus 
it becomes effective by the positive method of substitution. 
To attend only to the negative phase of control is to omit to 
consider the desirability of the substituted reactions by which 
alone such control can be achieved. 

Substitution aims to estabhsh one preferential association Control by 
instead of another. It is greatly facilitated by deferred tion'^''^"" 
maturity in the associations that it is desired to replace. 
When one becomes accustomed to react toward objects in a 
certain way, the instinctive tendency to react differently 
will, if it appears later, very Hkely be inhibited. Thus we 
may create what is commonly known as a "happy family," 
where hons and lambs, foxes and fowls consort together in 
amity. The instinctive hostility of these species is for all 
ordinary occasions forestalled by habits that are formed before 
the tendencies have grown strong. Whether fear of the dark 
is instinctive or not, a child may be so habituated to it that 
without encouragement the tendency will either not appear 
or be very mild. An inherent weakness that predisposes 
toward intemperance in drink may not display itself if the 
antagonistic habits are well formed. So, too, the mating im- 
pulse, because it is so long deferred, may, in spite of its strength, 
be completely suppressed so far as its normal expression is 
concerned. 

Substitution may effect either of tAvo results: It may cause Substitution 
certain instincts, when they are roused, to result in acts which 
have been made their response by training rather than in the 
acts instinctively associated with them. Thus we may when 
angry strive to punish the occasion of our wrath by treating 
him with contempt or by stinging retorts rather than by a 
physical attack. On the other hand, substitution may strive 
to associate certain objects with instincts other than those 



may be of 
reactions 
or of in- 
stincts 



I04 



Principles of Education 



W 



Illustration 
in the con- 
trol of emo- 
tional ex- 
pression 



which by heredity they tend to arouse. Professor James has 
it in mind in making the following statement : — 

"Another sort of arrest of instincts by habits is where the 
same class of objects awakens contrary instinctive impulses. 
Here the impulse first followed toward a given individual 
of the class is apt to keep him from ever awakening the con- 
trary impulse in us. In fact the whole class may be protected 
by this individual specimen from the apphcation to it of this 
individual impulse." ^ 

This sort of substitution may be illustrated in the training 
of wild animals, in the cultivation of the instinct to save 
rather than to use, or that of treating strangers hospitably 
rather than of looking upon them with suspicion. It involves 
a readjustment in regard to the inherent sensitivity of various 
instincts. Some are encouraged by being habitually attached 
to objects that naturally rouse others. Thus the others 
atrophy for lack of occasion to display themselves. 

The methods and effects of substitution in reorganizing 
hereditary tendencies can, perhaps, best be illustrated in the 
case of emotions and the expressions of emotion. Every in- ■ 
stinct has its emotional side, mild or intense, depending upon 
the character of the emergency and the nature of the person 
who faces it. Moreover, the range of emotional expression 
includes all four classes of instinctive acts that were dis- 
tinguished earlier in the section. Thus the emotion and its 
expression include all the factors involved in the readjust- 
ments we are considering. Taking the example of anger, a 
child with an hereditary disposition to become violently 
wrathful might be carefully dealt with on occasions that excite 
the emotion, until gradually it becomes accustomed to regard 
these situations in such ways as appeal to its sympathies, its 
sense of humor, its knowledge of consequences, etc. It will, 



Principles of Psychology, Vol. II, p. 395. 



Heredity and Education 105 

however, probably be impossible, as well as undesirable, 
entirely to prevent the appearance of the emotion. Never- 
theless, when it is roused, its manifestations in merely instinc- 
tive ways may be inhibited by well-bred methods of attack 
or defense. If these are successful in meeting the emergency, 
the occasion for anger has disappeared. 

If, however, the emergency cannot be regarded as other than 
exasperating, and if habitual or intelligently controlled methods 
of deaHng with it fail of effect, then the emotion usually grows 
more violent, and the primitive instinctive reactions are apt 
to be evoked. Emotion, functioning on Dewey's theory 
as the stimulus to readjustment, provokes the brute heredi- 
tary responses as a final resort. Suppose, however, that the 
occasion is one where according to social standards such reac- 
tions are not permissible. For example, one may not strike 
a woman. Here the remedy Hes in the cultivation of an 
intense repugnance for this particular sort of act, such that 
the barest anticipation of it would cause its inhibition. In this 
case the instinctive act is trained by association to rouse an 
instinct or feeling that paralyzes and so replaces it. 

We have then the following phases in the control of the Phases of 
emotion: (i) the substitution of contrary emotions habitually ^^^i 
associated with its instinctive stimuli, (2) the substitution of 
habitual expressions for instinctive ones, (3) the inhibition of 
some instinctive expressions by emotions which they are 
trained to rouse. Under these conditions we may suppose 
that no emergency will excite a certain emotion unless in the 
nature of the case the vigorous effort that will thereby be 
stimulated is necessary. In that event, the first effect of the 
emotion will be mild intellectual excitement with habitual Emotion as 
activity under conscious control. Here emotion favors con- presence 
centration of attention, presence oj mind. When such methods and absence 
fail to remove the difficulty, we may suppose that the time has 



io6 Principles of Educatiofi 

come for more primitive desperate measures, such as could not 
be initiated in reflective attitudes of mind. Hence the more 
intense emotion, scattering the attention and producing 
ahsetice of mind, finds its function, and brings about more 
violent instinctive or random reactions as a last resource. 
Even here, however, it is possible to inhibit certain intoler- 
able acts by associating them firmly with counteracting 
emotions. 
Emotions It is interesting to note that the emotion itself according 

"iesser'b' ^^ ^^^ James-Lange theory is to be controlled, at least in 
reaction to part, by Substantially the last of these methods. For if the 
pression cxprcssions of emotion give rise to the emotion itself, as these 
psychologists affirm, all that is necessary to control it is to 
inhibit these expressions. This may be, and is, in fact, most 
frequently done by training the individual to be sensitive to 
the exhibition of self involved in these expressions, or to other 
objectionable features connected with them. Thus the emo- 
tion is provided with a safety valve by which it can check its 
own extrem.es. Herein Hes the oft-mentioned reheving or 
homeopathic effect of emotional expression. It distracts the 
attention from that which excites it and thus allows the emo- 
tion to subside. 

The fact that an emotional state has a tendency to call into 
activity latent instinctive tendencies that may be undesirable 
is the basis of the somewhat common notion that it exists to 
be repressed rather than utiHzed. This conception has ap- 
peared continuously in educational theory, especially that of 
those whose ideal was discipline. Even Herbart, who was 
far enough from being a disciplinarian, looked upon emotion as 
something to be put down. 

Herbart on " The more perfectly the human and especially the male 

the control organism develops, the less is to be seen of all these emotions 

emo on .^ ^j^^ Sphere of educational observation, and this, too, as 



Heredity and Education 107 

early as the later years of boyhood and the beginnings of 
youth." 1 

Herbart distinguishes between feehng and emotion, con- 
demning the view that the latter is simply stronger feeling. 
FeeUngs, he thinks, may be profound and yet not disturb 
our equanimity, whereas emotion always involves a bodily 
disturbance that is likely to prove a hindrance to the assimi- 
lation or utilization of experience. Feeling is valuable in that 
it always enhances the efficiency of ideas ; emotion interferes 
and, in Herbart's own phrase, "makes feeling dull." 

It is the merit of Professor Dewey's view that it establishes 
the continuity in nature and function between feeling and emo- 
tion. However, the more violent emotional disturbances do 
interfere with thought, and cause a resort to mere instinctive 
forms of activity. Hence, Herbart and common opinion are 
right in drawing a distinction between the feelings or milder 
emotions, which are the dynamic elements of thought, and 
the intense emotions, with which education has nothing to do 
except in the way of antagonism. 

In conclusion, we may say that heredity leaves education Summary 
much to undo. Many instincts and instinctive acts are no 
longer useful, except, perhaps, in extremes. Some are unde- 
sirable or even dangerous. This is especially true of the more 
violent emotions and their expression, wliich may be taken 
as the type of that which education must control or suppress. 
Control can never be by mere negative discipline, but must 
proceed by the positive method of substitution. This method 
is made easier in application when the instinctive tendencies 
are deferred. In any case, it aims to associate with desirable 
instincts and emotions, the objects or situations that would nat- 
urally arouse undesirable ones,, and to forestall objectionable 
instinctive responses to these emotions by estabhshing more 

^ Contributions of Psychology to Education, Letter XIII. 



io8 Principles of Education 

satisfactory habitual ones before nature has had its way 
and hardened its tendencies into habits. When education 
has done its work properly, it niay be hoped that the intenser 
emotions will never appear except where a resort to daring 
instinctive experimentation is necessary. Even here intoler- 
able responses may be paralyzed by training inhibiting emo- 
tions to play the watchdog upon them. » 



CHAPTER IV 



EDUCATION AND SOCIETY 



Section 12. Early evolution of social heredity 

The uses of society have been alluded to from time to time. 
At the foundation of them all lies the function of providing 
for the individual security against conditions that might over- 
whelm him in isolation. Of all the many phases of this secur- 
ity, that wliich consists in the parental care of the young while 
they are receiving their education, and which supplements 
this care by positive instruction, is probably the most impor- 
tant. For without it immaturity could not exist, and, there- 
fore, all the racial flexibility that comes through non-inherit- 
mce of acquired characters and great capacity for education 
would be impossible. Society may be conceived as the pack 
that hunts more effectively from cooperation, as the granary 
that sustains the individual when his daily search for food is 
Lmsuccessful, as the army that protects him against foreign 
enemies or the constable that preserves his personal rights, 
is the organization of industry to utilize the division of labor ; 
but behind all these functions Hes that ultimate one of parent 
md schoolmaster. Society is primarily an educational insti- 
tution. 

The utility of society determines the incidence of evolution 
toward a social regime. Natural selection in the upper strata 
Df life wars upon the non- social. "United we stand, divided 
sve fall" is an epitome of the history of earlier civilization. 

109 



Fundamental 
function 
of society 
that of 
education 



no 



Principles of Education 



Stages in the 
early evo- 
lution of 
social he- 
redity : 



Whatever makes for social solidarity is, therefore, at a premium 
in the struggle for existence. Th6 social qualities are, of course, 
fundamentally hereditary. But they are also partly a product 
of education. We have parental, social, and moral instincts, 
but they amount to little unless cultivated in the proper en- 
vironment. We may expect instinct and training to sup- 
plement each other more and more effectively as society 
evolves. 

The history of this evolution is the history of education. 
Each stage in the process brings into play new powers, per- 
haps new instincts, and cultivates these capacities more 
assiduously. 

The beginning of this evolutionary process is found in paren- 
tal fosterage. Sutherland ^ traces the steps by which the task 
of perpetuating the race is taken more and more from extraor- 
dinary fecundity, and placed upon better methods of preserv- 
ing the young that are brought forth. Among these are devices 
that make more certain the fertilization of the eggs, guarding 
the eggs, hatching them by the warmth of the body, nest 
building, the evolution of the placenta and of vivaparous 
reproduction. In these advances, made with almost incon- 
ceivable slowness through countless ages, we see the biologic 
preparation for parental fosterage. In every case the progress 
is in the direction of greater economy, fewer offspring, and 
greater care of those that are born. 

Thus, according to Sutherland, parental fosterage originates 
as an outcome of evolution in the direction of greater economy 
in reproduction, prevention of the waste of life. In a sense it 
is a negative factor, merely protecting the young, but not 
equipping them with positive adjustments. However, the 
evolution of fosterage permits readjustment by rejuvenation 
to become more and more prominent. Thus it enables the 

^ Compare Origin and Growth of the Moral Instinct. 



Education and Society 



III 



evolution of capacity to learn. This in turn transforms the 
social relation of parent and offspring into an educative one. 
Mere negative fosterage becomes positive training. Com- 
panionship evolves from protection into education, by the 
mere growth on the part of the young of the power to profit 
by it in acquiring the habits of their parents. 

With the growth of power to learn the instinct of parental 
fosterage becomes supplemented by a tendency to aid the young 
in their work of development. The beginnings of this instinct 
to teach may be noted in the lower animals.^ The classic 
example is that of the birds striving to teach their young how 
to fly. Such instruction amounts to little more than forcing 
the nesthngs to use their powers, but it undoubtedly facilitates 
the process of maturation, and cuts short the period during 
which the efiEiciency of the family group is crippled by the help- 
lessness of some of its members. It seems like a fairly safe 
generalization to say that the instinct to teach begins with 
the tendency to thrust the young into positions where at least 
a partial use of their resources is necessary. 

However this may be, it is evident that the prolonged pro- 
tecting companionship of the parent offers in itself a fruitful 
opportunity to the imitativeness which is inevitably involved 
in any high degree of capacity to learn. This imitativeness 
has itself been called an instinct. The psycho- physiological 
basis of it will be discussed later. Here it is necessary only to 
notice that it appears in all the higher social animals, as a 
somewhat blind tendency to do the things that are perceived, 
provided the action system of the animal makes possible such 
acts. The perception of the act gets associated with its per- 
formance so that the one inevitably leads to the other. Here 
we have the "circular reaction" of Professor Baldwin.^ It 

^ Compare Letourneau, L'Evolution d' Education, Ch. I. 
^Mental Development, "Methods and Processes," p. 133. 



(2) Parental 
training 

Forcing the 
young to 
learn 



Growth of 
imitative- 
ness and 
of training 
through 
prolonged 
companion- 
ship 



112 



Principles of Education 



Great amount 
learned by 
uncalculat- 
ing imi- 
tation 



Mechanical 
imitation 
as leading 
to intelli- 
gent use 



does not of necessity involve any notion of the end to be gained 
through such imitation.^ Thus -the monkey and the parrot 
imitate a great variety of things the significance or use of which 
they do not in the least comprehend. It simply happens that 
they can do these things, and that the association between 
the perception of the acts and the impulse to perform them 
can and does get estabHshed. 

But however blind the impulse or simple the act, the ten- 
dency to repeat what is perceived is replete with possibilities 
in the way of handing on ancestral habits. Indeed, it results 
in a social heredity almost as mechanical in its methods of 
transmission as is physiological heredity. Natural selection 
favors those who set good models on the one hand, and those 
who imitate on the other. Thus the drift is toward a larger 
and larger number of racial or group usages, which derive 
their value either from their service to the individual or to 
society. By imitation the lower animals learn to seek food 
or water or safety in certain " places. In a similar way they 
gain some power of interpreting the signs of nature or of the 
social attitudes of their fellows. They learn to make signs 
that result in communication. As we sometimes say, they 
learn to understand one another. 

This uncalculating, almost unconscious imitation may lead 
the mind, even while the acts are being repeated and made 
into habits, forward into a dim appreciation of the use of what 
is being done. Thus it is with the imitative as with instinctive 
tendencies, that their purpose may come vaguely or clearly 
to be understood when they have been repeatedly carried into 
action. The human child imitates words without knowing 



^ Professor Thorndike surmises (Atiimal Intelligence) that lower animals 
never consciously endeavor to gain the results of others by imitating them. 
This view Mr. Hobhouse {Mind in Evolution) rejects, although he admits the 
rarity of such purposive imitation. 



Education and Society 



113 



their meaning or intending to use them in communication. 
But the use of the word is soon learned after the power to make 
it has been acquired. So brutes may come to use with great 
skill and considerable intelligence habits at first acquired 
blindly through imitation. But it must not be supposed that 
conscious recognition of the value of these habits is indis- 
pensable to their successful practice. 

We have already emphasized the fact that this social hered- 
ity is but little more flexible than the physiological inheritance. 
It is also usually hammered out in the same savage way. 
Those species that have a bad social heredity are eliminated 
by selection, because their young acquire their habits almost 
as blindly and as certainly as though these had come merely 
by being born. Yet however small the difference, social hered- 
ity has nevertheless a real advantage in modifiability. A 
disadvantageous instinct, although it may be suppressed in 
the parent, will wait its opportunity in the child. A habit, 
suppressed in the elder generation, is no longer a model for 
imitation, and without loss of hfe it disappears from social 
heredity. Nature or the environment can by coercing the 
individual eliminate the traits preserved by imitation, and the 
extinction of the stock or strain of blood is not necessary. 
Moreover, the destruction of parents or their separation from 
their offspring before the latter have adopted some of their 
habits would cause these traits entirely to disappear in a gen- 
eration without the elimination of the stock. Thus there is 
real advance in flexibility. 

We have seen that parental training may supplement pa- 
rental fosterage by instinctively selecting the safe and advan- 
tageous time for thrusting the young on their own resources. 
When the young are markedly imitative, and the amount of 
social heredity to be transmitted correspondingly large, the 
instinct to prolong the companionship of parent and offspring 



Imitative 
transmis- 
sion more 
modifiable 
than in- 
stinct 



114 Principles of Education 

beyond the time of dependence comes to aid the educative 
process. Thus the two instincts, the one tending to drive the 
young into independence, and the other preserving social com- 
munication with them so that they may learn through imita- 
tion how to get on by themselves, supplement each other. 
The educative advantages of social intercourse with parents 
become greatly multipHed in the group life that the higher 
social animals display. The young imitate other adults be- 
sides their parents. Thus parental training comes to be sup- 
plemented by that of society. 

General social training introduces interesting new possi- 
bilities in the way both of variation and conservation. The 
model of parental training tends to be interfered with by that 
presented by others in the social group. Family peculiarities 
may thus be swamped out, because of the mere numerical 
preponderance of those who set a different pattern. Thus the 
children tend toward the norm of society rather than the varia- 
tion of the parent. Galton's law of regression toward the type 
finds illustration in social as well as in physiological heredity.^ 
On the other hand, general social intercourse offers in many 
cases not one model, but many. Here it tends to break away 
from the conservatism of family training and to suggest dif- 
ferentiation and variety. 

The possible conflicts among the models presented by 
society open the way for struggle and for preferential imita- 
tion. An individual who has acquired habits that are espe- 
cially efficient or noticeable stands out as a preferred pattern 
for the young. The leader, the hero, is in evidence even among 
the brutes, and among men his grip enables him, as chance or 
his will determines, both to check any tendency to vary from 
the social norm and to swerve the current of social heredity 
from its wonted channels. 

* Compare Natural Inheritance, 



Education and Society 115 

We may leave the discussion of the social mechanism of Summary 
imitation to a later section.^ The next stage in the evolution 
of the educative function on the part of society is the rise of 
conscious education. Its appearance is sufficiently important 
to constitute a revolution in the history of social heredity, and 
in consequence we may well devote to it a special section. The 
earlier evolution of social heredity, as we have seen, is summed 
up in the stages of (i) parental fosterage ; (2) parental train- 
ing, that appears, on the one hand, as a tendency to encourage 
or compel on the part of the young the development of their 
powers, and, on the other, as prolonged intercourse, that 
cooperates with imitation to increase the material of social 
heredity ; (3) general social training, that leads into the 
complex mechanism of interference among suggestions and 
of preferential imitation. 

In this evolutionary development we may note the constant 
tendency toward economy of life and of vital force, and toward 
flexibility in readjustment. The immaturity of rejuvenation 
and the loss of acquired characters involve expenditure for the 
sake of flexibility, but parental fosterage, parental training, and 
general social training tend successively to repair the losses. 
Indeed, the losses are so weU made good through the unthinking 
mechanism of imitation that the flexibility, so hardly acquired, 
is well-nigh lost. However, the advance from physiological 
heredity to social heredity and from parental training to gen- 
eral social training brings in each case some increase in the 
ease of readjustment. Social heredity can be improved with- 
out the destruction of the stock, and the larger social group 
presents more opportunity for variation in models than does 
that of the family. This increase in flexibility becomes 
especially prominent when we reach conscious education. 

^ Compare § 38. 



Ii6 Principles of Education 

Section 13. The rise of the school 

Rise of con- The first social unit to strive consciously for the improve- 
Jadon b^" i^^nt of the young through training is, doubtless, the family. 
the famUy As imitativcness and intelligence grow, it results on the one 
hand, that the amount gained by imitation becomes sufficient 
to catch the attention, and, on the other, that the capacity to 
discriminate the presence of such learning and its significance 
to the child and to society develops. Thus man becomes 
at last dimly aware of what his children gain through inter- 
course. This consciousness is, doubtless, sharpened by the 
spectacle of children whose education has been by comparison 
with others either defective or positively bad. The evil of 
their pHght and its causes are detected by those who are con- 
cerned in the welfare of others who might if neglected suffer 
similarly. Consciousness here, as always, appears primarily 
as a remedial agency. 
Self-interest Couscious cducatiou ou the part of the family is a natural 
dvlof '^°' outgrowth of the parental instinct. It has concerned itself 
general primarily with the welfare of the children. In a secondary 
consciously Way the Welfare of the family group, family pride, etc., have 
educating become involved, but the primitive altruism of parental affec- 
tion has always been its dominant note. The teaching of the 
simpler acts of skill, of the morality of close personal relation- 
ships, and even to a great extent of the matters that prepare 
specifically for a vocation has always been attended to pecul- 
iarly by the family. On the other hand, society, as distin- 
guished from the family, first consciously addresses itself to 
education, not so much in order to promote the welfare of the 
individual, as to train in conduct that will strengthen the group. 

Illustration /- i i .... • j • 

in primi- We may find the program of primitive conscious education 
tive adoies- jHustratcd in those exercises by which savages initiate their 

cent ex- -^ ^ ^ 

ercises young men and women into the rights and duties of adult 



II 



Educatio7i and Society 



117 



members of the tribe.^ These exercises may be roughly classi- 
fied into ordeals, drill, initiatory rites, and instruction in tribal 
traditions, religious beliefs, laws, and customs. Some of these 
factors may be defective, if not lacking, in the exercises of cer- 
tain peoples, but as a rule most or all are represented. 

The ordeal is the test that determines whether the novitiate 
is worthy of admission into the tribe. Occasionally it may 
determine his standing therein. One of its almost universal 
forms is physical mutilation of some sort, of which tattooing is an 
especially common type. The tattoo marks are not there merely 
for aesthetic reasons. They are the tribal brand, symbolical of 
that which the individual is willing to endure to gain public 
approval. Fasting and isolation from society, especially that 
of women, or in the case of girls that of men, are also nearly 
universal. Isolation is, however, properly ceremonial, and 
finds its utility in impressing upon the youths the enormous 
importance of the step they are taking. The forms of the 
ordeal are of the greatest variety. It may consist in any sort 
of torture that the fancy or the circumstances of the tribe may 
suggest, from binding the youth on an ant hill, that he may be 
bitten by these insects, to suspending him by the heels for an 
indefinite period. The one who undergoes the ordeal most 
heroically, i.e. most stolidly, comes out with greatest honor. 
And, indeed, the qualities demanded here are not essentially 
different from those that make brave and persistent hunters 
and warriors. The tribe demands of the individual much 
sacrifice in serving the community through the dire emergencies 
of savage life. Social solidarity is, it is true, in the long run 
a source of security to the individual. But it is often purchased 
at the expense of individual suffering and death, and the willing- 
ness to face these prospects without flinching when the welfare 



(i) The ordeal 
as a test 
of social 
efficiency 

Its educa- 
tional 
value 



^ Compare Letourneau, L'Evolution d'Edtication, and Webster, 
Secret Societies. 



Primitive 



Il8 Principles of Education 

of the group is at stake is an indispensable condition of this 
solidarity. It is fitting, therefore, that the young men, and 
to a certain extent the young women as well, should at the 
beginning of their adult life realize by direct experience what 
is expected of them, that the standards of social approval 
should be applied to them in so serious a fashion as to insure 
a real test of their courage, and a vivid realization on their 
part of the glory of success and the shame of failure. 

(2) Drill as The same motive of socialization appears as the basis of the 
culture other features of primitive adolescent training that we have 

mentioned. The drill trains either in hunting or in war. Its 
object is to mold the individual into habits that tend to make 
him merely a part of a larger unit, with no interests separate 
from this. He must be made subservient to the will of society, 
whether that be expressed by an autocratic leader or by public 
outcry. He must acquire habits of cooperation and of obe- 
dience and ideals of glory, that transform him from a child 
of nature into a creature of the social order. Ratzenhofer^ 
and Gumplowicz^ contend that mankind emerged from the 
primitive social condition into organized society as a result 
of the conflict of races and the subjugation of some by others. 
We may add that in this struggle the determining element was 
the efficiency of these adolescent exercises, and that among 
them the special one of drill, by which military skill was per- 
fected, was of no slight importance. 

(3) Initiatory The initiatory rites contribute further to the same end of 
thdr sig- efficient sociaHzation. Often apparently meaningless or trivial, 
nificance they bccomc invested with religious significance, and thus gain 

all the sanctions that spring from terror of the enmity of the 
supernatural powers or hope of their favor. To the careless 
observer the childishness, the abject formahsm, the incon- 
sistency, and the stupidity of these customs constitute their 

^ Die Sociologische Erkenntniss. * Die Rassenkampf. 



Education and Society 119 

most evident characteristics. Yet to the uncritical savage 
they seem inevitable, and to one who studies them they come 
as a whole to evince an utility strangely out of harmony with 
the irrationahty of the specific observances themselves or the 
superstition of their associated beliefs. The initiatory cere- 
monial is, in truth, only a phase of the religious hfe of the 
people, and it offers an interesting example of the educational 
function of religion. The rites are unusual, hence they are 
easily rendered impressive, — indeed, solemn. The effect is 
heightened by the ordeals with which they are accompanied, 
and the superstitions by which they are interpreted. Again 
they are mysterious, and their very lack of apparent meaning 
enhances their mystery, especially since the only intelligible 
reason that can be urged for them is that they are aU com- 
manded by the powers of the supernatural world. Finally, 
they almost invariably involve the seclusion of the initiated 
from society for a certain period, and often the entire cere- 
mony is rigidly kept secret from the opposite sex and, indeed, 
from all except the participants. The secrecy enhances the 
impressiveness of the whole initiation. 

One cannot emphasize too much the importance of the reli- socializing 
gious element in this adolescent training and, in fact, in the e^fctof 

° _ o J ) religion 

work of fostering the social attitude throughout the life of the 
individual. That religious beliefs and observances have, 
apart from their truth or falsity, been an useful if not an 
indispensable agency for socialization can scarcely be denied. 
Whether with Voltaire we regard them as largely the inventions 
of the priests to enslave mankind, or with Benjamin Kidd^ 
as irrational phases of human thought without which the self- 
ishness of men cannot be held in check, we must admit that 
they have constituted a force in the absence of which it is 
difiicult to see how civilization could have been possible. 
^ Social Evolution. 



I20 



Principles of Education 



Religion a 
product of 
reason and 
a check to 
its non- 
social 
effects 



Superstition 
favored by 
natural 
selection 



This function is displayed very clearly in the earlier stages of 
social evolution, where the sacrifices for social ends that are 
expected of the individual are often too great to be produced 
by the motive of desire for approval alone. Even a savage 
may think far enough to realize that social glory will not help 
him much when he is dead. But if, when he comes to reason 
thus, he at the same time believes in the efficiency of the 
supernatural powers to make him unhappy even after death, 
his intelligence will not undermine the instinctive or habitual 
social acts that both society and religion are striving to foster. 
Moreover, even in the present life, these mysterious agencies 
may be trusted to frustrate all his cunning in endeavoring to 
evade the social consequences of cowardice, immoraHty, or 
crime, such as come under their ban. Thus, while reason, on 
the one hand, tends to subvert in the interest of enlightened 
selfishness certain customs that originate from instinct or 
unintelligent imitation, it, on the other hand, aided by its 
ally, imagination, creates a belief in the supernatural which 
rallies to the defense of the threatened social fabric. Instinc- 
tive or mechanically initiated morality is gradually supple- 
mented by the morality of superstition. 

That natural selection encourages those superstitions that 
make for social efficiency can scarcely be doubted. Especially 
is this evident in military societies, where the natural courage 
of the individual is enhanced by the behef that he fights under 
the protection of a tutelary spirit or deity. However, not only 
in warfare, but also in those early stages in society where 
castes exist, religion tends to preserve the group. Here the 
social order depends on a habit of obedience in the subordinated 
castes which rehgion fosters, thus insuring peace, the gradual 
development of social interdependence and conditions that in 
the long run make for greater intelligence, and a broader hu- 
manity. It is not meant that religion is with primitive men 



Education and Society 



121 



mere superstition, but if we think of superstition as a false 
belief about the supernatural, it is undoubtedly largely so, 
although possibly always containing a substratum of truth. 
However, even as superstition, religion may be of the greatest 
value, and hence is favored by selection. 

Indeed, not only is superstition the parent form of religion, 
but also of those other offshoots of intelhgence, philosophy 
and science. Primitive beliefs consist of the hypotheses of a 
dawning rational power among men. But, though imagination 
and reason are strong enough in their infancy to frame hypothe- 
ses, they are not capable of testing them by the methods of 
philosophy or science. Now hypotheses are not merely true or 
false. They also have a relation to the practices of life. They 
are helpful or vicious in their reaction upon conduct. Opin- 
ions that exaggerate or distort the facts of reality may yet prove 
for a time valuable assets of institutional life. The notion that 
a certain individual or group of men are infallible may be the 
only means by which a people can be compelled to accept from 
them certain rules or beliefs of the highest worth or truth. 
Uncritical dogmatism even to-day has its value as a founda- 
tion for force of will either in an individual or a people. Super- 
stitions are made up of uncriticised, unverified hj^otheses, 
and they are valuable in those ages in history when a critical 
attitude lacks such a guidance from racial experience as will 
prevent it from resulting in mere individuahsm, skepticism, 
and feebleness of social will. While science is gathering its 
data, superstition serves to check the destructive effects of 
selfish cunning. Such beHefs as make toward this end are 
preserved, because the society that holds them endures. 

The ordeals, the drill, and the initiatory rites, used by primi- 
tive men as an adolescent discipline, an introduction to citizen- 
ship, are naturally associated with the fourth phase of such 
culture, the instruction in tribal traditions, rehgious beliefs, 



Superstition 
as the be- 
ginning of 
rationality 



(4) Instruc- 
tion in 
traditions, 
etc. Its 
growth 
into the 
school 



122 



Principles of Education 



The school 
the out- 
come of 
conscious 
socializa- 
tion 



Summary 



laws, and customs. This factor, at first not a distinct element, 
gradually expands in amount as^ tradition and law develop. 
Even with men accounted savage, it may occupy months of 
training. So great a quantity of material for instruction is 
eventually collected that the preservation and continuation of 
it comes to constitute the principal if not the sole duty of a 
priestly or learned class. Many beliefs become esoteric, 
simply because the mass of the people have not time to acquire 
them, or special training or intelligence enough to understand 
them. Such conditions were typified among the Egyptians, 
Hindoos, Babylonians, Hebrews, and Peruvians. Indeed, this 
stage in social evolution is practically universal. Especially 
is it almost certain to result from the development of a written 
language, the first uses of which are invariably connected with 
law, religion, and tradition. Here, then, we have the adoles- 
cent training expanding into priestly education, and involving a 
school, the simplest function of which is training in literacy. 

The school, therefore, may be said to evolve out of the con- 
scious attempt to educate the young. As an institution of 
society distinct from the family, it finds its function in the 
endeavor to socialize its people. The family remains in its 
educative activity primarily interested in the welfare of the 
child, and only in a secondary way does it concern itself with 
the improvement of the collective welfare. On the other hand, 
society first becomes interested in education, not because it 
wishes to promote the interests of the individual who is to be 
trained, but because it desires to strengthen itself in the struggle 
for self-preservation, or in carrying out the enterprises dear 
to the heart of the community as a whole or, at any rate, 
of those who control it. 

Thus the conscious education of society first reaches clear 
expression in the exercises of adolescence. The purpose of 
these exercises is primarily, one may say solely, that of social- 



Education and Society 123 

ization. They are to train in habits and ideals that make for 
the welfare of the group of the initiated even though they 
involve the sacrifice of the individual. In this work, religion, 
even in the form of superstition, is of the greatest importance, 
for by it the belief in the supernatural is rallied to the rescue 
of society. Thus reason and imagination create beliefs that 
strengthen social organization in spite of the disintegrating 
influence of intelHgence when in the service of self-interest. 
Because of this check to the disruptive actions that spring 
from selfish cunning or the vagaries of reason in the individual, 
natural selection, usually operative in the interest of social 
soUdarity, is enabled to encourage also the growth of ration- 
ality. 

Conscious social education is evidently far more flexible than 
the unconscious training of imitation, for it is of the essence of 
consciousness to discriminate and hence to present alternatives 
to conduct. To educate consciously means to entertain the 
idea of no education or of a different education. It means to 
open the door to change and to readjustment, by providing, 
on the one hand, increased sensitiveness to disadvantageous 
educational conditions and, on the other, increased resources 
for change in the way of suggestions as to possible methods of 
doing things. Against the anarchic effects of such flexibility 
we find, as we have seen, arrayed the force of ethico-religious 
adolescent culture. 

The tyranny of such culture brings with it the tyranny of 
civilization. The "state of nature" of which Rousseau dreamed 
is, in truth, a state of freedom from institutional tyranny, 
— if, indeed, we can anywhere find men so primitive that they 
have no institutions. Rousseau is right also in regarding in- 
stitutional tyranny as the outgrowth of education. Social 
control in its most effective forms is the child of conscious edu- 
cation and of the school. Thus the fundamental problem of 



124 



Principles of Education 



Purposes of 
education 
for social 
control 



Instincts 
back of 
social 
heredity 



(i) Those 
favoring 
passive 
transmis- 



political history is bound up with the evolution of conscious 
education. 

Section 14. Education and social control 

The evolution of conscious education involves the transfer 
of social heredity and of social control into the hands of human 
intelligence and will. They, therefore, come under the sway 
of purposes. We may distinguish three purposes that enter 
in to determine the nature of education for social control. 
These are (i) the aim of promoting the welfare of the children 
who are trained ; (2) that of fostering society and social wel- 
fare ; (3) that of exploiting individuals or social groups in the 
interest of those who control the mechanism of education. 

It is interesting to note that this last purpose is, Hke the 
others, grounded in instinct. The advent of consciousness 
merely furthers the tendencies that nature has implanted in us. 
If we were to pass in review the instinctive tendencies that he 
back of education through social intercourse, we should find 
the following list to cover fairly well the ground : (i) the 
instinct to seek the society of one's kind, or sociabiUty ; (2) the 
instinct to cooperate in specific ways with some and to antag- 
onize others ; (3) the imitative and sympathetic instincts ; 
(4) the parental instinct ; (5) the instinct to seek approval ; 
(6) the instinct to control. 

Sociabihty is intimately bound up with that "consciousness 
of kind" which Professor Giddings^ regards as so fundamental 
a fact in social life. The instincts of cooperation and rivalry 
lead to a great variety of specific acts, such as are involved in 
cooperation in the storing of food, in defense against enemies, 
in the posting of sentinels, in the building of homes, in the 
pursuit of prey, in migration, etc. These combine with socia- 
bility to provide a constancy of intercourse greatly favorable 

^ Compare Principles of Sociology. 



Education and Society 125 

to the transmission of social heredity. The imitative and 
sympathetic instincts go hand in hand, inasmuch as sympathy 
is furthered by the tendency to imitate the expressions of 
emotion. On the James-Lange theory of emotion such imita- 
tion must result in the development on the part of the imitator 
of some measure of the emotion felt by the one who is imitated. 
Thus imitation makes for common feehng. Sympathy is 
not, however, by any means entirely dependent on imitation. 
The sight of others the situation or the expressions of whom 
suggest feeling or desire of any sort is wont in sympathetic 
people immediately to stir similar feelings. It is to be noted 
that while sympathy, by transferring to one the feelings of 
another, causes them to act somewhat alike, it does not by that 
fact cause the sympathetic one to help the other. Sympathy 
alone leads us to avoid the sight of suffering rather than to go 
to its assistance. Hence, while it furthers cooperation and 
sociability, it is not equivalent to these. 

Sociability, cooperation, imitation, and sympathy favor the (2) Those 
passive, unconscious transmission of social heredity. On the activ™° 
other hand, tjhe parental instinct, the instinct to seek approval, trans 
and the instinct to control may each involve forms of the gen- 
uine active instinct to teach. The parental instinct leads, 
as we have seen, first to the prolongation of the companionship 
of the elders for the sake of the educative effect of their example, 
then to the instinct to thrust the young on their own resources 
when proper occasions appear, and finally to the active seeking 
or artificial creation of such occasions. The last step carries 
us into the region of human, consciously controlled education. 

The instinct of parental training spreads by imitation and 
sympathy, and becomes a general attitude of society toward 
the rising generation. It gains powerful assistance from the 
inborn impulse on the part of human beings to gain recognition 
for themselves and their ideas, not only from others of their 



mission 



126 



Principles of Education 



Social value 
of the in- 
stinct to 
exploit 



Exploitation 
as a phase 
of social 
progress 



own age, but also from children, where, perhaps, it may more 
easily be won. Finally, the instinct to control, to domineer, 
to exploit, appears to drive its possessor to make use of the 
tremendous engine of culture in the interest of his own individ- 
ual caprices or ideals, or of his personal security, ease, and 
comfort. 

In the history of mankind it is often difficult to determine 
the extent to which the enterprises of leaders are dominated by 
altruistic interest in the welfare of society or by the instinct to 
exploit. A leader who creates or controls a mechanism of 
education by which a social group is made strong usually brings 
about, not only an increase in social welfare, but also enhanced 
prosperity for himself. Even though in his self-denial he re- 
fuses to take advantage of his power to add to wealth or purely 
personal goods, he cannot rid himself of his authority or of his 
prestige. He has identified himself with his social group as a 
whole, and its welfare becomes in a peculiarly intimate sense 
that of himself. It is not that he is conceived justly to charge 
from the community that has profited by his organizing power 
a commission for his services, but rather that sociaHzing edu- 
cation has trained all men to think of the welfare of the state 
as the thing that overshadows every individual interest, and 
that the leader or governing class symbolizes this community 
prosperity and, indeed, the community itself. In an age when 
the materials for scientific criticism of government are few, 
and when natural selection works fiercely to weed out those 
social groups with less effective organization or less vigorous 
loyalty thereto, it is likely that men who are governed almost 
entirely by the instinct of exploitation may do society its great- 
est service. 

As a matter of fact there can be little doubt that, however 
important it may be to-day for society to get rid of the use of 
the machinery of social control for the sake of exploitation, 



Education and Society 



127 



this practice has constituted an integral and necessary phase 
of human progress in the past. Exploitation has not only- 
served the interests of those who govern, but it has as a rule 
benefited the governed as well, and m the long run has served 
as a means of promoting human progress into a truly democratic 
age. Slavery may often be preferable to a state of nature, 
so far as the security of life is concerned. Domestication has 
for the lower animals its disadvantages. It is, however, the 
price that many pay to avoid extermination. But the greatest 
gains that spring from this stage of social evolution accrue 
to civilization in general. They come through the intellectual, 
social, and aesthetic advances that the governing class is enabled 
to make from the leisure that it obtains through the system of 
exploitation. This matter, so important in the evolution of 
culture, will be discussed more fully later. 

The ethico-rehgious culture, which constitutes, as we have 
seen, practically the sole educational interest of general society 
at the dawn of conscious education, drifts naturally into an 
agency for exploitation. This process may take place along 
two lines. Leaders or governing classes may spring up within 
a social group, or a governing class may be created by the 
conquest and subordination of one tribe or race by another. 
In both cases the role of socializing education is dominant. 
Such education may spring from the accumulated suggestions 
of men who are by nature endowed with much of the instinct 
to control, but the preservation of the material depends largely 
upon its service to the general efficiency of the tribe. 

Once brought into existence, the material of adolescent 
culture lends itself to the creation and perpetuation of a sys- 
tem of leaders. The initiated, by virtue of the strength of 
their social organization, the secrecy and mystery of their 
common rites, the superstitions that surround and sanction 
their customs, are enabled to exercise an extraordinary author- 



Exploitation 

in primi- 
tive edu- 
cation 



V'*>: 



128 Principles of Education 

(i) Of women ity ovcr the uninitiated. From the very beginning women 
^ ™^° have been as a rule excluded from the secret tribal society. 
Thus, while they may have an adolescent training of their own, 
the more powerful organizations of the men become an effective 
agency to enhance the dominance of the male sex.^ It is likely 
that the superior strength of the male society is due to several 
reasons, among which we may note first, the fact that the prin- 
cipal service of the social training which such societies involve 
is to promote efficiency in war, an occupation not practiced 
extensively by women, and second, the fact that they tend to 
run counter to the extreme instinctive partiality of women 
for their own children. 

Thus in its earlier stages adolescent initiatory education 
tends to become an agency for the control and, indeed, the 
exploitation of women, inspiring in them fear and mysterious 
reverence, compelHng them to yield up their children, and 
reducing them to a kind of slavery, so far as regards the drudg- 
ery of the economic Hfe. In yet another way such training, 
even while it remains the common heritage of all the males 
of the tribe, becomes an agency for the exploitation of some 

(2) Of in the interest of others. Inasmuch as its nature is largely a 

older men ^ matter of tradition, its control falls into the hands of the 
elders, who are thus enabled to assume a position of great 
authority, and in fact render the younger man quite subser- 
vient to them. Thus they are able to substitute for the neglect 
and the privations that the decay of old age naturally brings 
to those dwelling in a state of nature a life of great honor and 
comparative ease.^ Whatever they wish they can obtain 
through the superstitious respect that their supposed super- 
natural powers causes them to inspire. They may even mo- 
nopolize the younger and more attractive women of the tribe, 

^ Compare Webster, Primitive Secret Societies. 
^ Compare ibid., p. 60. 



Education and Society 



129 



leaving the young men to go without wives or to select them 
from those whom the elders do not desire. 

The exploitation of women by men and that of the younger 
men by the elders do not exhaust the possibilities of the 
adolescent culture as a source of power and privilege. In a 
general way, the honor which the initiated enjoy depends on 
their success in the ordeal. Thus the initiatory exercise nat- 
urally results in a rough differentiation into leaders and sub- 
ordinates. Tliis differentiation may be further developed by 
the growth of the tribal society in two directions. The process 
of initiation may be expanded, and various grades may appear 
between the £rst exercise and final admission into the inner 
circle of the elect, who really control the society.^ Again, the 
conditions of initiation may be such as to exclude many, 
perhaps all but a few, from entering the society. In both cases 
the institution tends toward the limitation of the authority 
and advantage that springs from a control of the adolescent 
culture to a few. It tends to differentiate the tribe into a 
governing and a governed class. 

In the further evolution of the tribal society this distinction 
may become more and more manifest. The determination 
of those who shall monopolize the machinery of social control 
may come to depend on wealth or on heredity or on both, 
instead of upon the inherent quality of the initiates. Under 
such conditions the tribal society may come to bridge the 
gap between primitive democracy and genuine aristocratic 
or monarchical institutions. The ethico-rehgious culture may 
thereupon gradually cease to be the peculiar initiation into a 
powerful and privileged society, and become a training of 
general custom, that serves to maintain the social control of 
the dominant classes. In that event, the machinery of the 
earlier institution may still be preser\^ed, either as a mere formal 

^ Compare ihii., Ch. VI. 

K 



(3) Of a 
governed 
by a 

governing 
class 



Rise of aris- 
tocratic 
culture. 
First phase: 
restriction 
of member- 
ship in a 
dominant 
tribal 
society 



130 Principles of Education 

survival or as a contribution to the forces of conservatism in 
maintaining the established order,^ 
Second phase: In the complete evolution of the aristocratic or monarchical 
ofTpeopie state, however, the second method of transformation above 
by another alludcd to is, doubtlcss, an usual if not a necessary phase. 
superior Ouc tribe with a superior social heredity, so far as war is con- 
culture cerned, conquers and reduces to subjection another. In this 
struggle it is evident that efficiency depends to a great extent 
upon social solidarity and so upon such adolescent culture as 
we have been considering. Originally the result of such con- 
flicts was the annihilation of the defeated group. With 
developing intelligence slavery or some other form of exploita- 
tion is substituted for extermination. Society is thus broken 
into the governing and the governed caste. Each maintains 
to some extent its own educational traditions and methods.^ 
However, there are modifications. The subjugated caste 
retains just that ethical training that makes it subservient. 
Only when its culture lends itself to this change can it escape 
extinction. The ruling caste emphasizes more and more the 
social discipline that makes it a coherent and efficient force 
in war, yet couples this subservience to its own standards with 
the arrogance of leaders toward the conquered caste. 
Survivals of The methods and ideas of these early systems of socializing 
addescent culturc survivc in many of the institutions of to-day. We still 
culture have adolescent miHtary drill ; we have secret societies, and 
the time for joining them as for entering the church is that of 
early manhood. The Greeks had the manhood examination ; 
we have the period of assuming the civil and political rights of 
the adult. Chinese education is practically an expansion of 
the manhood examination. Originally military in character, it 
expanded to concern the so-called "six arts," — music, archery, 
horsemanship, writing, and the rites and ceremonies of public 
^ Compare Gumplowicz, Die Rassenkampf. 



\ 



Education and Society 



131 



and social life. Here we find a caste education that aimed, 
in part at least, at the exploitation of the lower classes. The 
later democratic movements in China involved the reduction 
of the military element to a mere form, and the development 
of the official system of morality and custom known as Con- 
fucianism. This is founded on literary and ethical education, 
the aim of which is to fit the student for office. His success 
therein is tested by a series of examinations conducted by the 
state, and the passing of each successive ordeal either brings the 
student nearer to an official position, or entitles him to one better 
than he holds. In India the caste system of education is intact 
and intrenched. The Persians and Spartans illustrated the 
preservation by superior military training of the supremacy of 
a conquering caste over a numerically superior tributary one. 

We have seen that recapitulatory education amounts to practical 
little until it takes the form of social heredity. We may add 
that the principal function of social heredity is to further social 
Hfe; that is, to socialize the young. This is true even of the 
unreflective education of imitation and instinct. The acquired 
characters which each generation of a species needs to relearn 
consist very largely of methods of dealing with their own kind 
and with other kinds. By the time social heredity has evolved 
to constitute an important factor in the equipment of the 
young, the social environment has evolved into such propor- 
tions and such com.plexity as to afford in its cooperations and 
competitions the principal problems of readjustment. When 
conscious, social education appears, it devotes itself, as we have 
seen, almost solely to the business of socialization. Even 
in the hands of the family its primary object is to train the 
children to obey, to cooperate, and finally to lead. The art 
of social life is thus the oldest of the arts, the first to emerge 
from the rank of an instinct into that of consciously controlled 
devices. Religion, ethics, the science and art of social control 



value of 
education 
in social 
control 



132 Principles of Education 

are the fields into which all save an almost insignificant part 
of human thought has gone throughout the ages. The art of 
getting on has summed itself up in a study of ways of pleasing 
or exploiting society. 

Society furnishes a medium in which the aims of the individ- 
ual are all accomphshed indirectly. It does for him what he 
wants in proportion as he succeeds in pleasing or coercing it. 
Social control is, however, not in the last analysis ever a matter 
of physical force, but rather of management, of manipulation 
of the forces that influence the wills of men. The struggle 
for existence in society is a struggle to influence one's fellows. 
Rise of the It is a Struggle for recognition, in which conquest comes pri- 
conform ° marily through conformity to the conditions and the standards 
of the social will. Thus the natural struggle for existence 
ceases to have the character and the results that appear in 
the state of nature. Society is made strong by self-sacrifice. 
Hence it encourages the development of this quality, and the 
protection of the weak and the unfit. Its fundamental law 
is the golden rule, and whether the individual be penetrated 
with altruism or be purely selfish, he can gain his ends only by 
pursuing the way of social service, at least in form. The 
struggle for existence in society may in fact result in the 
destruction rather than in the survival of the fit. The physi- 
cally perfect, the brave, the efficient are called upon to serve 
in the armies and at the front. They perish, while those who 
are unfit for such duties survive to maintain the race. Presi- 
dent Jordan has emphasized these negative effects of selection 
in society.^ There can be Httle doubt that the type of man- 
hood has in many communities degenerated because of long 
and bloody wars. What to natural man may be a condition 
of rapid evolution, may to civilized man be an occasion for the 
reversal of this process. Moreover, society, not content with 
1 The Blood of the Nation. 



war- 



Education and Society 133 

thrusting into the post of danger its best blood, strives by its 
artificial system of charity to preserve pauper and criminal, 
feeble-minded and insane. 

Thus society wars upon the principle of natural selection, Social 
by the agency of which our fine physiological inheritance has ^^^ °1 
been sifted out. Although it is probable that we need not fear selection 
racial degeneration as a result of our ethics, nevertheless it 
does seem not at all unlikely that the advance of the race 
physiologically will be more and more interfered with, if not 
positively checked. The average intelligence of the freeman 
in ancient Athens will, doubtless, never be surpassed in any 
future community, if, indeed, it be equaled. However, it 
does not follow from the slackening of progress in respect to 
physiological heredity that the advance of society is threatened. 
Nature shuts off each generation from tinkering easily and at 
random with physiological heredity by providing no means 
for inheriting acquired characters. The ethics of society still 
further safeguards the stock against change, especially change 
in the direction of powers to be used only in the service of self. 
Nevertheless, in both cases the stability of physiological hered- 
ity is more than made up by the flexibility of social heredity. 
Progress ceases to be by the selection of men, and comes to be Progress by 
by the selection of habits, ideals, institutions, cultures. Thus Irovement 
the destiny of the race is taken out of the hands of the butcher of social 
and placed in the care of the social reformer, whose work can ^ 

be carried on without violation of ethics, and, indeed, in the 
spirit of charity and good will toward all. 

It is not meant that the processes by which the unfit are 
eliminated have in civilized society ceased. Disease destroys 
individuals and families. Poverty fosters disease. Sexual 
selection leaves many of the inefficient or abnormal without 
mates and offspring. Society in many ways wars upon the 
non-social and discourages the continuance of traits that either 



134 



Principles of Edtication 



Consequent 
increase 
in the 
rapidity of 
readjust- 
ment 



Transforma- 
tion of 
recapitula- 
tory into 
rational 
education 



negatively, like indolence or inefficiency, are a burden upon it, 
or positively, like immorality or the predatory spirit, threaten 
its disruption. Nevertheless, it seems clear that the respon- 
sibility for progress has been shifted from the germ plasm and 
placed upon culture. Many anthropologists are inclined to 
think that the differences between primitive and civilized men 
of to-day are mainly due to nurture, and that in nature the races 
of hiankind are after all gifted with much the same capacities,^ 

The shifting of the battle ground of progress from physiolog- 
ical to social heredity, from nature to nurture, has brought 
with it two great advances. In the first place, and from the 
formal point of view, there has been that large gain in adjust- 
abiHty, in flexibihty, in progressiveness that we have so much 
emphasized. The evolution of Ufe is in this respect like the 
movement of a stream that begins as a glacier. Imperceptibly 
the gathering snows are packed into masses that begin to creep 
down the mountain side. But the progress of the glacier is, 
because of its inflexibility, marked by extreme slowness and 
by terrible struggle, the signs of which are the crevasses, 
the scoriations, the moraines. When, however, it reaches the 
region of temperate heat, it melts, and for the rest of the course 
its advance is swift, fluid, conforming with the greatest ease to 
the irregularities of its bed. But with all its fluidity of adjust- 
ment, we must remember that the foundation of the Ufe of the 
higher species lies in a physiological heredity that seems to 
share somewhat in the permanence of immortality. 

In the second place, and from the point of view of content, 
capacity for readjustment, for education, for social inheritance, 
leads into consciousness, intelligence, morality, self-control, 
responsibility. When these factors once become clearly effec- 
tive in the life of mankind, education advances into a third 
stage in its development. In assuming the function of trans- 

^ Compare Ratzel, History of Mankind, Book I, § 3. 



Education and Society 135 

mitting the acquired characters it became, as we saw/ a con- 
servative agency. But when such recapitulatory education 
is taken more and more under the control of consciousness, 
as an agency to bring about the realization of purposes, we 
find that it loses its mechanical character and becomes more 
ideal. Men learn the power of education as a force for social 
control. They realize that future society will be what present 
education makes it. Above all, the exercise of intelligence 
makes them aware of the fact of progress, and the importance 
of education as an aid thereto. Under such control education 
becomes rational, progressive, ideal. Its motto is no longer 
"what was good enough for me is good enough for my chil- 
dren." It becomes, "my children must have better advan- 
tages than I enjoyed." Thus the conservatism of recapitu- 
latory education is gradually replaced by the progressiveness 
of the education of the reason, that aims not so much to adjust 
as to equip for readjustment. The discussion of the founda- 
tions of such education will constitute the main theme of the 
second part of our subject. 

With the growth of consciousness regarding the consequences Smnmary 
of education, then, the amount of training that can be obtained 
from the exercise of the instincts of sociability, imitation and 
sympathy, cooperation and hostility, or even from the more 
active instincts back of teaching, — namely, the parental 
instinct, the instinct to seek approval and the instinct to con- 
trol, — is enormously expanded. Especially do men educate 
in the hope better to realize the instinct to control, and we find 
that the exercises of adolescence evolve into elaborate and 
cunning devices for the exploitation as weU as for the better- 
ment of society. Women are exploited by men, the young by 
the old, and privileged classes may appear, either by the mo- 
nopolization of the control of culture by a few, or by the subju- 

* Compare § 10. 



136 Principles of Education 

gation of a people with one culture by a community having 
another which is more efi&cient for the purpose of war. Such 
exploitation is not entirely an evil in its day and generation. 
It may mean efficient organization for war or peace, protection 
in lieu of extermination, for which tribute or service is exacted, 
or a stable government with effective machinery for justice. 
In the long run it means the evolution of the arts of civiliza- 
tion, which are to a great extent a product of the patronage 
of the leisure class. 

By the time social heredity has come to assume considerable 
importance among the processes of life, the social environment 
attains the position of being the medium through which most 
of the adjustments of life are made. With man in civilized 
society, nearly all that is done involves the utilization of the 
social machinery. Thus education comes in a double sense to 
be for social control. On the one hand, it aims to socialize 
men, to bring them under the sway of common ideals and 
customs, perhaps to exploit them ; on the other, it aims to 
train them to make use of the social machinery, to know how 
to get on in society, to please, to cooperate, to lead, to exploit. 
Throughout the earlier history of civilization the concern that 
monopolizes almost all the interest of education is the art of 
social management. In socializing men, education interferes 
with the operation of the principle of natural selection by 
exploiting the strong and protecting the weak, by teaching 
the golden rule and the principle of self-sacrifice for the sake 
of others. Thus evolution in regard to physiological heredity 
is checked. However, progress by the improvement of social 
heredity takes its place, and this process can be brought under 
the control of the ideals of reason and conscience. The control 
of reason is favorable to far more rapid change; that of con- 
science puts the destiny of man in the hands of his own ideals. 
Thus rational or ideal education takes the place of the blind 
drift ahead or of mere recapitulation. 



it 



PART II 

THE PROCESS OF EDUCATION IN THE 
INDIVIDUAL 



CHAPTER V 

THE CONDITIONS OF INDIVIDUAL DEVELOPMENT 

Section 15. The problem of individual development 
In Part I an attempt has been made to determine the gen- Problem of 

Part I ■ 

eral function of education as a factor in organic and especially ' 
in social evolution. Put simply, organic evolution is a history 
of the development of adjustability, of capacity for education. 
We have seen how difficulties in the way of continuous individ- 
ual readjustment, together with the need of combining a high 
degree of adaptabihty in some respects and great racial stabil- 
ity in others, has resulted in the functions of reproduction and 
heredity, the differentiation of heredity from education, the 
non-inheritance of acquired characters, the life cycle begin- 
ning with infancy, recapitulatory education, social heredity, 
and the development of consciousness and conscious control. 

So far the problem that has so constantly confronted us has of Part n 
been that of racial adaptation, racial readjustment and evolu- 
tion. Now we may turn to the more minute analysis of the 
problem of education as a matter of the development of the 
individual. We have to consider the factors and the methods 
that appear in the maturation and adjustment of the child of 
an enhghtened race. The importance of consciousness in the 
process causes the issues involved to be largely questions of 
psychology. However, their discussion will constantly lead 
back to the question of general organic and social evolution, 
the treatment of which not only furnishes the foundation for 

139 



140 



Principles of Education 



Four 
problems 
concerning 
individual 
develop- 
meat 



the analysis of the process of individual development, but i^l 
itself in turn dependent upon this. 

The problem of individual development presents four large 
problems, the treatment of each of which yields certain general 
principles that it will be well to have clearly in mind through-i I 
out the following discussions. These problems are : first," » 
that of the hereditary equipment on the basis of which all 
individual development proceeds ; second, that of the relation 
between such development and the general process of experi- 
mentation and selection ; third, the relation between develop- 
ment and consciousness ; and fourth, the relation of develop- 
ment to habit. 



Dependence 
of capacity 
for educa- 
tion on he- 
redity 



Section 16. Heredity and individual development 

The development of the individual is often ascribed to hered- 
ity and education. In fact, since, as we saw in an earlier 
section,^ education is dependent upon an hereditary basis, the 
entire process of individual development is limited both in 
scope and direction by that which comes from nature. We 
distinguished four factors in the capacity to learn: (i) the 
instincts ; (2) the action system ; (3) sensitivity to lack of 
adjustment ; (4) ability to utilize the resources of the action 
system in new emergencies. Each of these is a gift of heredity. 
If it be objected that these factors are concerned only in be- 
havior, while learning concerns consciousness as well as physi- 
cal activity, we may reply that consciousness is always inti- 
mately associated with bodily movement. 

It follows that the development of each individual, includ- 
ing the things that he can learn, is limited, and to a consider- 
able extent specialized. We differ from each other both in 



' Compare § g. 



The Conditions of Individical Development 141 

general power and in the lines along which we are capable of 
learning. 

"The action system of an organism determines to a con- 
siderable extent the way in which it shall behave under given 
external conditions. Under the same conditions organisms of 
different action systems must behave differently, for to any 
stimulus the response must be by some component of the ac- 
tion system." ^ 

Progress in flexibility, in intelligence, has meant a growth 
in the direction of power to do any unexpected thing, as against 
power to meet certain special situations, yet it is evident that 
in the most intelHgent beings capacity to learn is limited by 
the range of the action system. 

"Man is no more regulated by pure reason than animals 
by pure instinct. The basis of human conduct is hereditary 
character ; the hereditary tendency to feel, to think, to act in 
a determinate manner. Properly considered the impulse to 
reason is itself an instinct ; and the methods by which we rea- 
son, the 'laws of thought,' are in the first place inherited 
methods of reaction to the appropriate objects. They are 
indeed improved and refined under the guidance of experience 
and reflection, but in this respect their history is quite parallel 
to that of the humbler instincts of animal Hfe." ^ 

Not only is intelligence based on instinct and limited to the Hereditary 
recombination of inherited modes of reaction, but also the specific 
power to think may be very considerable in some directions mental 
where instinctive action is well developed, while in others, 
foreign to the instincts of the animal, it may be very slight. 

"Intelligence, we shall recognize, develops in different forms 
and in diverse directions. It originates within the sphere of 
instinct, and in its earUer stages is shaped by the instinct which 

^ Jennings, Behavior of the Lower Organisms, p. 300. 
^Hobhouse, Mind in Evolution, p. 318. 



powers 



142 



Principles of Education 



it subserves and expands. We must not expect dog intelli- 
gence to be quite the same thing as cat inteUigence or ape 
intelligence. It is not only a question of difference in degree, 
but also, in a sense, of difference in quality arising from differ- 
ence in origin. Among men we know that A, who is clever at 
language, is incredibly stupid in mathematics, while with B 
it is just the opposite. So, a dog may show not merely a highly 
developed hunting instinct, but real cleverness in the adapta- 
tion of past experiences, when it is a question of catching a 
hare, but he may also be an intolerable dullard when it comes 
to opening a box." ^ 

Social hered- The action systcm by which the learning of civilized man is 
''^^j?,? circumscribed includes, we should remember, not only the 

condition ' ' •' 

of learning specific muscular movcmcuts and coordinations of movement 
possible to him, but those instrumentalities that society has 
developed for the use of the individual. We have tools, 
clothing, fire, houses, domestic animals, machinery, wealth. 
We have language, institutions, law, philosophy, science. 
These expansions of our action system are our social heredity. 
It is founded on the power to learn that comes to us through 
physiological heredity, but it is, nevertheless, an expansion of 
this. So extensive is the superstructure of social heredity 
that it dwarfs and almost hides its supporting instincts. 

"In fine, in the highest animal species, instinct lays the 
ground plan of conduct within which details may be remodeled 
by individual experience. In the human species, the ground plan 
is itself reconstituted by the organized experience of the race." ^ 

The fiexibihty of social heredity has been in the preceding 
pages repeatedly emphasized. Yet however easily modified, 
it determines the lines of development of the individual as 
positively as does the physiological inheritance. We are 
children of our age as well as of our blood. It can, then, be 

^ Hobhouse, Mind in Evolution, p. 264. 'Ibid., p. 320. 



The Conditions of Individual Development 143 

laid down as an universal proposition that one's power to learn 
is fixed by heredity and expressed in his action system. It 
will be necessary later on to expand further the conception of 
the action system in order to include and to provide for con- 
scious readjustment, but we shall find that this extension will 
not affect its fundamental relation to physiological and social 
heredity. The action system grows as does heredity, by 
virtue of that inner potentiahty of growth which furnishes the 
material for all readjustment.^ Whether or not its earher 
evolution in physiological heredity is governed by a principle 
of "orthogenesis," it would seem that the later development 
of social heredity under the control of intelligence and will 
would manifest clearly the tendency toward the ideal. How- 
ever, the difference is probably not fundamental, but due rather 
to the greater ease with which variations not orthogenetic are 
eliminated under the regime of conscious evolution. 

One other point of great educational importance should be Recapituk- 
mentioned before we leave the subject of the hereditary basis radaUnin- 
\ of individual development. The elements of this inheritance dividual 
i are not, as we have seen, all transmitted to the child at birth.' macft"^" 
This fact is almost as obvious of physiological as of social hered- 
ity. But it is not so evident that the order of development 
of these powers in the individual follows to a considerable ex- 
tent that of their evolution in the history of the race. This par- 
i allelism between the ontogenetic and the phylogenetic series 
{ has been and still is made much of in educational theory. 
I From the point of view of the present discussion it may be 
stated as follows: the action system of the individual tends 
J to expand in the same way that it developed in the history of 
, the race. The extent to which this conception of recapitu- 
) lation and the educational practices based thereon are valid 
j will constitute the subject of the following chapter. 
; * Compare § 9. * Compare § 7. 



144 



Principles of Education 



Summary We may sum up the section by reaffirming the principle that 

individual development is determined by heredity. This 
follows of necessity because of the limitation of the possibihties 
of modification by education to the resources of an action sys- 
tem that comes through either physiological or social inherit- 
ance. We readjust ourselves through the materials that come 
to us from the ages of organic and social evolution. These 
resources, to a considerable extent at least, become available 
in j^the individual in the order in which they appear in the 
race. 

Section 17. Experimentation and, selection 



Three phases 
of develop- 
ment by- 
experimen- 
tation and 
selection 



In a general way, it may be said that the formula "experi- 
mentation (or variation) and selection" covers all readjust- 
ment, whether in the individual or in the race. Three distinct 
phases of the exempKfication of this principle may be discerned. 
These are: (i) racial evolution by variation and selection; 
(2) individual development by "trial and error"; (3) individual 
development by conscious or ideational readjustment. 

The first two of these processes have been already much 
discussed. The method of learning by "trial and error" is 
essentially that method the factors in which are described in 
the section on "heredity as a basis for education."^ It de- 
mands on the part of the individual that learns a certain sen- 
sitivity to lack of adjustment and a power to utilize other than 
hereditarily preferred responses in the endeavor to meet this 
situation. The process of learning is stimulated by the sense 
of dissatisfaction, which immediately results in the inhibition 
of existing impulses and the initiation of diffused activities. 
Such of these as are useless or injurious are inhibited and elim- 
inated. If any succeed in removing the source of the dissatis- 



§9. 



The Conditions of Individual Developincut 145 



faction, it is repeated, and a new association is formed, mak- 
ing it the preferred reaction to the given situation. 

When we compare individual readjustment by trial and 
error with racial readjustment through variation and selection, 
we notice an important contrast both in the materials for exper- 
imentation and in the nature of the selection. In the case of 
racial evolution the experiments are individuals who vary 
from each other. The selection is done by the physical influ- 
ence of nature, destroying all who do not succeed in conform- 
ing to the conditions of life. If the organism fits, all is well, 
but failure involves no reaction in the effort to better itself. 
Such a reaction would illustrate individual rather than racial 
readjustment. To be a true case of the latter, each new experi- 
ment must be a new individual, springing from a varying frag- 
ment of the germ plasm. 

On the other hand, in learning by ''trial and error," the ex- 
periments are not individuals, but impulses, activities. The 
resources for learning are not potentialities for variation in 
germinal cells, but the action system of a differentiated body. 
Such materials are both specialized and capable of being 
brought into action quickly through the associating power of 
the central nervous system. Individual readjustment demands 
effective action speedily; otherwise the time for learning is 
past, the organism has perished, and the work of readjustment 
must be left to the race, in the experiment of some other indi- 
vidual. The action system, in order to be so quickly utilized, 
must consist of fairly mature types of reaction, or such as 
can be quickly matured. It is not primitive, undifferentiated, 
but complex, specialized, and at the immediate beck of a nerv- 
ous system delicately sensitive to the needs of life. 

Just as learning when compared with racial readaptation 
involves a change in the materials for experimentation, so it 
depends upon a new method of selection. The individual must 



Learning by 
trial and 
error com- 
pared with 
racial read- 
justment 
in (i) char- 
acter of the 
experi- 
ments 



(2) method 
of selection 



146 Principles of Education 

assume for itself this function. It must anticipate the de- 
structive action of the environment. Instead of waiting for 
nature to settle the question as to whether or not the experi- 
mental variation is desirable, by favoring or killing the experi- 
menter, the sense of dissatisfaction or contentment must judge 
tlie efficiency of the various reactions. Thus we have, instead 
of direct natural selection, symbolic individual selection. It 
is interesting to note that, unlike natural selection, this symbolic 
selection does not destroy the impulses that it inliibits, but 
simply puts them in abeyance, to be resuscitated should an 
emergency serious enough arise. 

Thus trial-and-error learning introduces us to one phase of the 
inner subjective Hfe, that form of consciousness wliich is usually 
called affective. From its function we might well call such 
consciousness selective, yes or no consciousness, as contrasted 
with cognition, which is descriptive. Affective consciousness 
symbolizes the favor or the menace of the environment, thus 
enabhng us to change our ways before it is too late. Some 
have wondered why we should so generally feel pleasure in 
what is good for us and dissatisfaction in the injurious, and they 
have tried to explain the matter by reflecting that natural 
selection would have eHminated all who felt otherwise. This 
is only half the truth. Affective consciousness develops, not 
merely in such a way as to do us no harm, but rather as a fun- 
damentally important asset of life. It is that without which 
learning would be impossible. 

We have spoken of affective consciousness as s>Tnbolic of 
the selective agency of the environment. This does not in the 
least imply any clear consciousness of this symbolism. One 
feels his way toward the prudent, but does not know the rea- 
sons that make his course so wise. So disguised is this sym- 
bolism that ethical schools have sprung up, maintaining, on 
the one hand, that pleasure and pain are the sole good and 



\ 



II 



TJu Conditions of Individual Drj€lot>m-€nt 147 



evfl in life, and, on the other, that they have no relation to 
either good or e^•il, and should be utterly disregarded by thcee 
in search of the true values of life. Both schools are equally 
regardless of the function or utility of feding. 

Tlie principle of eip**! niifntatin n and sdectioii manif^ts 
itself in yet a third way, as the f(H3n of ocmscious learning. 
In the case of learning by trial and enxn* the eipa im ents are 
actual reactiaDS <rf the body; the selectkxi akme is symbolic, 
subjective. When we come to oaosasxs Ifaming^ however, 
we find that the ei paii uents themselves have changed. 
The>* are not movements, but radier ideas of movements. 
The inner world has come to symbolize, not only the selective 
agenc}' of the environment, but also the ^lecific ocMiditians and 
results associated with our acti^'it>' therein. We are aUe to 
rejHesent <»- antiripate in detail the consequences of fcdlowi!:^ 
certain inqiulses. Cognitive <x deso^itive ooi^ciousness has 
appeared. Thus the interplay <rf tapei iine n t ali on and selec- 
tim becomes wht^fy' a mimic strugi^e, foug^ out in the arena 
of the mind. Instead of acting we think of acting, and, sum- 
moning into tibemind the consequences that will follow such a 
course, aie enaUed to tell befoiehand what we should dd, with- 
out the wear and tear <rf actual eiperimentation. Sudikaniing 
may be called idfafinnal readjustment, jnasnmrh as it goes on 
in idea. 

To have oonscioas learning the action system miKt e^iand 
:o indnde ideas desci^tive <rf the conditiaiis and results of 
action. Such ideas are an outoofne of consciovB memofy. 
They can be acquired onfy as a result oi actual esperimenta- 
tion. We may call them eqwrifiKT The gathering of expe- 
rience is the function of the cerelnal hemi^dieres. This is 
not their primaiy, but rather their secondary function. Pri- 
maiily- as we have seen.* the hemispheres fumMi a complei 

§7 



XatTire of ^ 
these fac- 
tors in COB- 
sdoas 

leading 



148 Principles of Education 

mass of interconnections in which hereditary preferences are 
largely wanting. Thus cerebral control means ready diffu- 
sion of impulses and corresponding facihty in readjustment. 
In this way learning by trial and error becomes easy. With 
the growth of the power to be affected by the conditions as- 
sociated with activity so as to retain a symbolic account of 
experimentation, the brain gains its secondary function, — a 
function that, one might say, ultimately overshadows the 
primary use. 

The development of cognitive consciousness and of ideational 
readjustment involves a change in the selective principle as 
well as in the material for experimentation. Feeling becomes 
reenforced by cognition and develops into judgment. The 
details of this transition and of various important phases in 
the evolution of ideational readjustment will be dealt with in 
later chapters. 

Experimentation and selection may, then, be said to consti- 
tute the general form of readjustment. In racial evolution 
the experiments are individuals, who represent variations from 
the norm of the stock. Selection is here the natural or ehmi- 
native selection of the environment. In individual develop- 
ment the process of experimentation and selection assumes 
two phases. The first is that of learning by trial and error, 
where the experiments represent reactions drawn from the 
resources of a differentiated action system, and the selection 
is by the inhibitive or favoring effect of affective consciousness. 
Here the inner, symbolic life first manifests itself, in repre- 
senting the selective influence of the environment. With 
the development of conscious memory and experience, the 
action system is supplemented by the addition of many ideas 
in regard to action. Thus the inner life is equipped not only 
with the power of selection, but also with plans which furnish 
the material for ideational readjustment, and learning becomes 



The Conditions of Individual Developtnent 149 



conscious, symbolic, anticipatory of the physical movements 
of readjustment, and so facilitating to a remarkable degree this 
process. 

Section 18. Consciousness and readjustment 

The fundamental relation of consciousness to readjustment 
was indicated in the last section. It anticipates actual by 
ideational readjustment. Thus learning is made quicker, 
easier, and less dangerous, and its possibiHties are very greatly 
increased. We learn more quickly because thought can hasten 
more speedily in its anticipation of the results of action than 
movement in the realization of these consequences. We gain 
the ease and safety of mere reflection in place of the effort and 
the risk of actual trial. Finally, through its powers of analysis 
and synthesis, thought is able to coordinate very complex move- 
ments that otherwise would be impossible. Thus the resources 
of action are enormously enhanced. Very many activities 
are brought into interplay, and long-continued series of move- 
ments are integrated through the power of consciousness to 
review quickly the various factors involved, and to push 
through in an economic way the organization of a comprehen- 
sive plan. These advantages will be illustrated in greater 
detail later. 

We may say, then, that the primary function of conscious- 
ness is to facilitate readjustment. Three subordinate prin- 
ciples may be stated to emphasize phases of this fundamental 
relation. The first of these is that all consciousness is motor. 
Learning is, as was suggested in an earlier section,^ always 
learning to do. Professor Baldwin calls this principle the "law 
of dynamogenesis," ^ and Professor James makes it one of 
the "working hypotheses" upon which psychology proceeds.^ 

1 § 16. 2 Mental Development, Methods and Processes, p. 165. 

' Principles of Psychology, Ch. I. 



Primary 
function 
of con- 
sciousness 



Three impli- 
cations as 
to its na- 
ture : (i) 
Its impul- 
sive char- 
acter 



I50 



Principles of Education 



(2) Its de- 
pendence 
on emer- 
gencies 



The principle seems to follow as a natural consequence of the 
structure of the nervous system, where all paths lead to the 
muscles. This is true even of the compUcated fibers in the 
cerebral hemispheres, for these ultimately land the currents 
they bear in the motor areas. It is true that ordinary obser- 
vation seems to furnish us with cases where men think but do 
not act. However, minute experimentation invariably reveals 
some physical expression in eye movements, muscular tension, 
change in circulation, or the like. 

A second subordinate principle is that consciousness occurs 
only when readjustment of some sort is necessary. With 
many psychologists the criterion of consciousness in the lower 
animals is their power to learn. This is the view of Spencer, 
Bain, Romanes, Royce, Baldwin, and others too numerous 
to mention. The newer school of so-called "functional" 
psychologists reemphasizes this point, declaring that conscious- 
ness is what it does, and that, in consequence, it never appears 
except as it functions in readjustment. 

"A closer inspection of the situation will suggest to us the 
generalization, which is undoubtedly correct, that we shall 
find consciousness appearing at those points where there is 
incapacity on the part of the purely physiological mechanism 
to cope with the demands of the surroundings. If the reflexes 
and the automatic acts were wholly competent to steer the or- 
ganism throughout its course, there is no reason to suppose 
consciousness would ever put in an appearance. Certainly 
we never find it intruding itself where these conditions are 
observed, except in pathological instances." ^ 

(3) Critical The third principle may be immediately derived from this. 

of^Te fac- "^^ consciousness is always the outgrowth of disturbances in 

tors that it activities that up to that time were performed instinctively, 

so it consists in a gradual process of representing in idea the 



Angell, Psychology, p. 50. 



The Conditions of Individual Development 151 

essential features of the situations where things are going 
wrong. The preHminary step in this process is inhibition. 
Inhibition provides the opportunity for the growth and the 
utilization of ideational or reflective experimentation, — if 
you will, deliberation. Consciousness evolves as a symbolism, 
representing such features of the situation and of the experi- 
mental efforts to solve it as prove most valuable in leading to 
effective action. It is always at the critical point in the 
struggle for readjustment, and its view is either wholly or for 
the time limited to attending to such factors in the situations 
with which it deals as must be distinguished in order that the 
appropriate reactions may be applied to them. 

Consciousness, therefore, may be conceived as largely con- 
cerned in rendering intelligent actions that at first were un- 
consciously performed. Thus the transition from instinct to 
reason seems like one from an unconscious to a conscious 
teleology. The mind fathoms the mechanism by which the 
individual gains his ends, in order to improve it in this or that 
detail. As this process of taking under control the functions 
goes on, consciousness attends first to the matters that are more 
immediate. It learns how to do things before it learns why 
they are done. Subsequent mental development proceeds Two direc- 
in two directions. On the one hand, it goes from the conscious- ^^^^j^ ^^^_ 
ness of the end immediately to be gained to more and more sdousness 

develops 

remote ends, thus unraveling the teleology of its being. On 
the other hand, it analyzes each activity into the elements of 
which it is composed, thereby approaching more nearly to a 
comprehension of the physical and physiological and even 
the psychological mechanism upon which its effectiveness 
depends. Both kinds of knowledge, normative and natural, 
knowledge of values and of agencies, of final and of efficient 
causes, are indispensable to a complete and satisfactory 
adjustment. 



152 Principles of Education 

Social heredity presents to consciousness the same problem 
of reconstruction as does physiological heredity. The activ- 
ities and the instruments of activity, the control of which comes 
to us by imitation, are not at first comprehended either in their 
mechanism or in their ultimate significance. But our social, 
even more than our physiological inheritance needs to be 
corrected and improved, and one of the principal tasks of con- 
sciousness is to further this process by learning the meaning 
of our social practice. 

In summary, we may say that the fundamental function of 
consciousness is that of readjustment. Thus the speed, the 
ease, the safety, and the possibilities of readjustment are to an 
extraordinary degree improved. As subordinate principles, 
we note that consciousness always results in movement, that 
it never appears except when there is need for readjustment, 
and that its problem is that of unraveling the plan that lies 
behind our unconscious instincts and uncomprehended tradi- 
tions in order to reform it. 

Section 19. Uahit and, readjustment 

The process of readjustment results in the establishment of 
habits. We have already discussed^ the physiological condi- 
tions that give rise to the associations to which we apply this 
name. Habit is due to specialized growth. A stimulating or 
unsatisfactory condition leads to diffuse reactions. Those 
that are unsatisfactory are inhibited and eliminated. If any 
be satisfactory, the synapsis, or association of nerve fibers 
through which it was brought about, receives a further supply 
of nutrition. Thus it becomes a preferred association, while 
others are permitted to atrophy. It is interesting to note 
that both the experimental reactions and the strengthening of 

1 Compare § 5. 



The Conditions of Individual Development 153 

the preferred associations are the product of the inner powers 
of the organism. Here, as everywhere, the general principle 
that change, variation, growth, is from within, the environ- 
ment simply acting as a stimulating or selective agency, is 
illustrated. 

As we have seen, the formation and strengthening of a habit Habit as in- 
illustrates the inertia of growth.^ It involves specialization \f^^^^^i 
and the loss of a certain amount of flexibiHty. A result of flexibility 
readjustment, it would seem to interfere with all readjustment 
not along dependent lines of development. Every time an 
experiment is converted into a habit a certain number of experi- 
ments have been choked out, and are less likely to appear again. 
The possibilities that have been tried and found wanting are, 
when the satisfactory solution has been found, no longer as 
they were at first, liquidated resources, but tied-up or, perhaps, 
used-up capital. Constant inhibition has led to the abandon- 
ment of some reactions ; others have been appropriated by 
certain stimuli. The tendency to diffusion has been checked. 
The movements of the body have become orderly and signifi- 
cant, but its power to modify readily its methods of reaction 
has suffered diminution. 

On the other hand, it must not be supposed that this power 
of readjusting is completely lost. One becomes less and less 
likely to resort to any other than the habitual responses to a 
certain emergency; that is, the amount of dissatisfaction neces- 
sary in order that this preferred association may be broken up 
and another substituted has been increased. Here, however, 
another factor must be considered. It is that of consciousness. 
Consciousness facilitates greatly, as we have seen, the forming 
of habits. In the first place, as affective consciousness, its 
degree of sensitivity is a measure of the intensity of stimula- 
tion and the force of inhibition, and so of the activity of ex- 

1 Compare § 5. 



154 Principles of Education 

Cognition as perimentatioii and the rapidity of selection. As cognitive 
sdecdon"^ consciousness it reenforces inhibitions. When the impulse to 
in the for- perform a previously inhibited act arises, memory adds an 
habitT° account of the results that followed it. This account 
strengthens the felt repugnance to the act. 
Experiment We may illustrate the manner in which consciousness assists 
Uon^oTSs ii^ the formation of habits by the experiments of Professor 
Thorndike on animals.^ Many species were tested, especially 
dogs, cats, and monkeys. One method employed was to place 
food in a box the door to which was secured by a fastening that 
could be released by pulling a string, pushing up a latch, or, 
perhaps, simpler movements. The animal, left without nour- 
ishment until it became quite hungry, was persistent in its 
endeavors to get at the food. After much effort, largely of a 
random character, a chance movement usually occurred by 
which the door was opened and the food obtained. On a 
second experiment, the same animal showed, as a rule, little 
or no gain in the ability to single out the successful movement. 
A long series of trials, however, reduced the time consumed 
in random efforts, until finally they were all eliminated, and the 
animal immediately performed the act by which the door was 
opened. Thus it had learned the trick of getting into the box. 
It is evident that the growth of a more intelligent conscious- 
ness would facihtate this process. Keener feelings would 
intensify the disappointment of failure, thus inhibiting and 
eliminating more rapidly the unsuccessful movements. On 
the other hand, unless it were supplemented by attention, that 
singles out the different acts in order that failures may be 
distinguished from successes and the proper feelings attached 
to each, intensity of affective excitement would merely increase 
the rage for experimental effort without directing it. This 
sharpening of attention is, doubtless, the forerunner and the 
^ Compare Animal Intelligence. 



The Conditions of Individual Development 155 

companion of cognition. We may speak of it as sensation, the 
mere power to distinguish. Better memory converts it into 
perception. The meaning of different parts of the box, and 
of the efforts made to get into it by way of them, becomes 
attached to the impulses to perform these acts. The animal 
recognizes, as well as feels, the futihty of some impulses and 
the promise of others. Put briefly, it remembers — in the 
most rudimentary way — how it got in, and also how it failed 
to get in. Thus cognition reenforces affective consciousness 
in hastening the act of learning. 

Consciousness, therefore, aids in the formation of habits. 
It assists learning by trial and error. This it does by further- 
ing the process of selection. Cognitive consciousness is here 
merely the servant of affective consciousness, the function of 
which is, as we have seen, that of selection. But cognition has Cognition as 
another and radically different function. It furnishes the of^'^read- 
material for ideational readjustment. Indeed, we may say justing in 
that from the very beginning this function is apparent. In 
reenforcing the inhibition of feeling, cognition works by antici- 
pating the results of impulses, by giving them a meaning. 
This meaning is a symbolic or ideational element. The rejec- 
tion through its assistance of the impulse to which it is attached 
is therefore ideational readjustment. This function is in the 
case where cognition takes the primitive form of perce tion 
concealed by the fact that each perception is dependent on the 
actual presence of a stimulating sense object. Thus the im- 
pulses associated with the perceptions come up in very much 
the same order that they would if the perceptive recognition 
of them were absent. Perception does not primarily increase 
the number of impulses. It does not, therefore, add at once 
to the resources of action, but simply facilitates the rejection 
or the acceptance of the impulses that would have been sug- 
gested by mere sensation. However, the character of these 



156 



Prmciples of Education 



Cognition as 
a saving of 
resources 
for future 
action, and 
hence 



(i) serving 
an indirect 
and remote 
aim, _ and 



impulses is changed by the reading of meaning into them. 
Thus the way is opened for an addition to the action system. 
This advance appears when a new situation is faced having 
some of the elements of situations that have already been ex- 
perienced. Here perception does yield suggestions to action 
that would not come up without its assistance. If, for example, 
after an animal has learned how to effect its entrance to a box, 
the character of the fastening is changed, perception might 
recognize this change, and so inhibit without trial the habitual 
method of endeavoring to open the door. If much experience 
in opening doors with various sorts of fastenings had been 
gained, a new device partly resembHng others would be less 
apt to create difficulty. A method of attack promising suc- 
cess might be initiated without a lot of preliminary more or 
less random experimentation. Thus perception would repre- 
sent experience, an actual expansion of the action system. 

It is evident that in its function of accumulating and recall- 
ing experience, perception busies itself with a task the value 
of which is, to say the least, somewhat indirect and remote. 
The immediate aim of the process of learning is to get rid of 
the wrong associations and to establish the right one. But 
cognition, even in aiding in the process of selection by which 
a habit is formed, is at the same time saving an account of the 
impulses that are thus eliminated. By remembering it is 
able to reject. Elimination is primarily, as it were, forgetful- 
ness, but here we have elimination by recall. Consciousness 
helps by remembering not only the successful reaction, which 
alone is preserved by habit, but also the unsuccessful ones. 
In short, it saves an account of the conditions and results of 
experimentation, the sole use of which is to facilitate future 
experimentation, rather than to strengthen existing tendencies. 
It is of value to habit only in so far as a habit is not yet formed 
or needs to be remodeled. Its recall of failures and alterna- 



The Conditions of Individual Developmeiit 1 5 7 



lives, of conditions and reasons, merely unsettles a habit that 
is already established. 

Thus, while, on the one hand, the formation of habits is 
using up the resources, the fiexibiUty of the organism, on the 
other, the storing up of experience is increasing these resources. 
Consciousness is, therefore, constantly aiding in the formation 
of habits and also accumulating material for their reconstruc- 
tion. It is a trite proposition that, while habits formed unin- 
telligently may master us, those formed with consciousness are 
ordinarily our servants. This does not refer, of course, to the 
issue of strength of character as against mere knowledge of 
consequences in the matter of the control of moral habits, but 
rather to that of the power to apply one's habits accurately 
and freely to the various emergencies of hfe. The growth of 
cognition and of conscious memory means the growth of a 
power to take account in a more and more delicate way of those 
prehminary experiments that it is the business of habituation 
to banish and forget. 

While we are fixing our attention on the fact that experience 
is engaged in the task of saving a description of the activities 
that are eliminated in the formation of habits, we should not 
utterly neglect the antithetical phase of the matter. The 
experiences that are saved to be recalled tend themselves to 
be selected or habitual ones. ''Repetition is the mother of 
studies," and this is true whether study concerns habits of 
action or ways of thinking. The more sensitive the memory, 
the less likely it is that events which are not repeated will be 
lost, and the greater the amount of experience that will be saved 
for the reconstruction of habits. However, even the most 
sensitive memory finds, as we shall see, great need for selec- 
tion, for preferential remembering and generous forgetfulness. 
Some experiences are worth more in the emergencies of life 
than others. Some contain essential principles that can be 



(2) counter- 
acting the 
losses in- 
volved in 
habit form- 
ing 



Habit as con- 
trolling 
memory 
and cogni- 
tion" 



158 



Principles of Education 



Habits of 
action as 
contribu- 
tory to 
readjust- : 
ment 



used constantly ; others find application only occasionally, 
or, perhaps, not at all. Others are easily and accurately put 
into practice. The separation of the useful and the rehable 
from the unimportant and the fallacious is the work of a process 
of selection quite analogous to that by which habits are 
formed. 

Thus, while experience finds its function in the formation 
and reconstruction of habits, and is a product of the power to 
save that which is ehminated in ordinary learning by trial and 
error, it is, on the other hand, itself an example of habit. We 
have habits of thought as well as of action. Both are results 
of selection, of eUmination, of forgetfulness. But while the 
primary function of the habit of action is to maintain an adjust- 
ment, that of the habit of thought is to effect a readjustment. 

We have spoken of habits of action as interfering with read- 
justment except along dependent lines of development. It 
should be noted that some such habits are, like some habits of 
thought, more fundamental, more reliable than others. Such 
habits will have, in consequence, many dependent lines of 
development, and will be correspondingly useful in readjust- 
ment. Thus, while the primary function of habit of action is 
to maintain an adjustment, if it be a typical or fundamental 
habit, it will need in order to meet new situations, not elimina- 
tion, but rather reconstruction or recombination. A long and 
severe process of selection is wont to leave an individual with 
a set of habits that possesses to a marked degree this second- 
ary function of cooperating in readjustment. Here selection 
works in the individual, as it has through countless ages in the 
race, to equip it with just that action system which will prove 
not only most adapted to conditions that remain permanent, 
but also most adjustable to those that change. Moreover, the 
results of racial processes of selection get expressed both in the 
hereditary equipment of the individual and in the habits formed 



The Conditions of Individual Development 159 

by imitation, for imitation hands on a social heredity that is 
made up of patterns which have survived ages of selection. 

To comprehend the use of habits of action in situations 
other than those for which they were originally formed, we 
must bear in mind the compHcated nature of the stimuh to 
which most reactions are made. It is natural to regard a 
habit as a mechanical response to a simple stimulus. Such is 
rarely the case. Indeed, it is not true to any extent even of 
the reflexes, which, according to Professor Jennings,^ depend 
not only on the external stimulus, but also on the "physio- 
logical state of the organism." A habit is, in the ordinary 
sense of the term, a more or less complicated response to a set 
of stimuli. Now the extent to which such a response can be 
reconstructed depends upon the extent to which the factors in 
both the stimuli and the response are susceptible of analysis 
and of recombination in new associations. 

The existence of a habit that is adjusted in part to a new 
situation gives to its possessor a starting point for experimenta- 
tion. To a dog, endeavoring in the experiments of Thorndike 
to get into a box, the situation is not overwhelmingly new. 
The box is an obstruction of an inanimate sort, and is to be 
dealt with as such, and not as a living thing. In appearance 
it is sufficiently frail to suggest the possibiHty of breaking it 
open by pawing, gnawing, or what Mr. Hobhouse^ calls 
"scrabbling." These suggestions offer a basis from which 
further experimentation may proceed with a fair prospect of 
success. Of course, the dog cannot be supposed to be con- 
scious of the fact that his first endeavors are prompted by 
what is famihar in the situation. He acts without reflection, 
but, nevertheless, with the handicap of a sufficient sense of 
recognition of the emergency to replace what would otherwise 

^ Compare Jennings, Behavior of the Lower Organisms, p. 280 ; also § 9. 
^ Mind in Evolution. 



i6o 



Principles of Education 



struction 
of habits 



be mere blind experiments by a fairly promising line of 
effort. 
Value of ex- The process of analysis and reorganization involved in the 
th"^recon" ^dvance from the preliminary tentative endeavors to a properly 
adjusted movement may go on by the method of trial and 
error. It is, however, greatly facilitated by experience in 
reference to the habits that are employed. Such experience 
enables a preliminary stage of reflection and ideational read- 
justment before the first experiments are permitted. It also 
constantly illuminates the subsequent experiments, thus has- 
tening the progress toward a conclusion. A man, before 
launching into a series of efforts to open a door with a strange 
fastening, would carefully inspect it, and reflect upon what 
method of attack would be likely to effect the desired entrance. 
Moreover, his experience would cause each unsuccessful ex- 
periment to teach him more than it would the brute. How- 
ever, even in his reflection he tends to use habitual thought 
rather than isolated or untested ideas as to the way things 
may be done. 

The compHcated character of the situations which offer the 
problem of readjustment to the higher animals and to man 
makes it Hkely that at least some factors therein contained will 
be familiar. This familiarity offers the opportunity for pre- 
viously formed habits of action as well as for habits of thought 
to aid in readjustment. Thus habits, if they be fundamental, 
and especially if they be both fundamental and accompanied 
by experience as to their use, are, so far from being a bar to 
learning, the indispensable agency of its continuous progress. 

The general relation between habit and readjustment may, 
then, be stated as follows : Readjustment in the individual 
means the formation of habits. This process establishes pref- 
erential associations and eliminates the tendency toward dif- 
fusion, thus destroying, as it were, the power of experimenta- 



The Conditions of Individual Development i6i 

tion on the basis of which the early capacity to learn is based. 
Thus habits of action are a result of readjustment, and an ob- 
stacle to future readjustment except along dependent lines of 
development. However, the loss of flexibility that learning by 
trial and error involves is in part, at least, made good by the 
power of consciousness to retain experience in regard to the 
rejected experiments. This experience becomes immediately 
available in the process of experimentation, since it accom- 
panies the recurrence of impulses to perform acts already found 
unsuccessful, thus reenforcing by memory of their consequence 
the felt tendency to inhibit them. Here cognitive consciousness 
aids affective consciousness in its task of eliminating failures 
and strengthening successes. When, however, new situations 
appear, the experience gained by cognition offers sugges- 
tions toward readjustment that are drawn from the unsuc- 
cessful as well as the successful experiments. It thus enables 
suggestions to action to appear which would otherwise have 
been lost, surrounding them with a description of their condi- 
tions and results that makes an ideational determination of 
their availability possible. Thus, while habit strengthens 
adjustment, cognitive consciousness everywhere exists to 
further readjustment. 

But while the function of cognition is to provide material 
for the reconstruction of habits, the experience that it hands 
on is itself subject to the same laws of selection as are habits 
of action. We forget experience, just as we inhibit impulses. 
There are habits of thought as well as of action. Indeed, the 
relative availability of experience for purposes of readjustment 
depends upon the excellence of the process of selection by which 
it has been garnered. In this process the individual is aided 
by imitation, through which his experience is led to be the same 
as that of the race. Thus he inherits in his experience the re- 
sults of ages of social evolution, as in his physical action sys- 

M 



1 62 Principles of Education 

tern he inherits the product of aeons of physiological develop- 
ment. 

Habits of action are an aid to readjustment along dependent 
lines of development. New situations are seldom wholly new, 
and in so far as they are familiar, the existing habits of the 
individual may be and often are applied to them. In such ap- 
plication they need reconstruction. This process may go on 
by mere blind trial and error, but it is enormously aided by 
experience in regard both to the use of the habits and to the 
process of experimentation by which they were formed or 
have been in part modified. This experience also makes it 
more likely that a new situation will be recognized as offer- 
ing the opportunity for the application of an old habit. In 
general, therefore, experience everywhere plays about the 
habits of the individual, saving and, indeed, enhancing his 
flexibility by converting his very automatisms into capital for 
progress. 



CHAPTER VI 

RECAPITULATION 

Section 20. Various theories of recapitulation 

In discussing the hereditary basis of individual develop- 
ment^ mention was made of the fact of recapitulation. Onto- 
genetic is parallel to phylogenetic development. The action 
system of the individual tends to become available in the 
same order in which it evolves in the history of the race. This Rise of the 
theory became current in the early part of the eighteenth cen- cap^tuia-"^^ 
tury. As a biological principle, it is associated with the no- tion 
tion of evolution that then appeared, but it was merely a vague 
general conception until it reached expression as a fact of em- 
bryology, first in a suggestion of Agassiz, and later in a more 
positive way by Von Baer and Miiller. 

As the notion of recapitulation gradually became formu- 
lated, it attached itself to two opposing theories of human 
nature and development. In a sense these two conceptions 
were the descendants, the one of the theory of innate ideas and 
the other of the view that all ideas are derived from experience. 
Thus, according to the first conception, which we may call 
that of psycho-physiological recapitulation, both the mental 
and the physical powers of the individual expand, irrespective 
of training, in the same order in which they develop in the 
race. They and the manner of their growth are innate. Ac- 
cording to the second conception, that of cultural recapitula- 

i§i6. 

163 



164 



Principles of Education 



Rise of the 
idea of psy- 
cho-physio- 
logical 
recapitula- 
tion 



Reactionary 
emphasis 
on culture 
and cul- 
tural re- 
capitula- 
tion 



tion, the natural order of presenting the experience, by which 
alone a child's development can be obtained, is that of the ac- 
quisition of this experience by the race. 

The idea of psycho-physiological recapitulation is fore- 
shadowed in the theories of Rousseau, in which, curiously 
enough, we find a very pronounced empiricism, founded on 
agreement with Locke, together with the conception of develop- 
ment according to nature, which meant that a child left alone 
to get his own education in a natural way would grow to the 
full maturity of his powers by mere inner expansion. It is true 
that Rousseau counted on the influence of a very simple nat- 
ural environment, but after all it was the realization of what 
God or Nature had planted in the child that to him constituted 
the true goal of education. Froebel adopted this notion of 
development from within, giving it a philosophical interpre- 
tation, and declaring it to be an epitome of the evolution of 
the race, thus stating quite clearly the notion of recapitulation. 
Unlike Rousseau, he did not regard the formative culture of 
society as an evil, but he agrees with that revolutionist in 
placing all emphasis upon inner development. 

Among other German thinkers of the period, however, there 
was a very decided reaction against Rousseau's rejection of 
social culture, the heritage of civilization. With them the 
specific nature of the experience which constitutes the educa- 
tion of the child becomes again of importance, if not, indeed, 
the main consideration. In Lessing's Education of the Human 
Race we find emphasized the notion that humanity has devel- 
oped through stages of culture, each of which constitutes an 
inevitable step in its education. It gets to the higher stages 
only by living through the lower ones. Thus earlier forms of 
culture that progress has rejected are, after all, indispensable 
parts of God's scheme in raising us to our present civiliza- 
tion, — a civilization which is not, as Rousseau thought, man- 



Recapitulation 



165 



tion con- 
ceived as a 
logically 
necessary 
order of 
growth 



made and evil, but God-made, and one to which it is God's 
plan that we should strive to adapt the child. Moreover, 
just as the race could reach the higher altitudes only by trav- 
ersing the intermediate ones, so the child must pass through 
savagery and barbarism on the road to enlightenment. 

Among the earlier exponents of the view, recapitulation was Recapitula- 
thought of as a logical necessity rather than as a mere em- 
pirical fact. Thus psycho-physiological recapitulation was 
conceived to be a consequence of the laws of mental and bodily 
development, which must, of course, operate in the race and 
in the individual alike. Growth, whether of mind or body, 
was regarded as a realization of the inner potentiahty of the 
soul or of the germ, a self-active process, governed by a law of 
inner necessity. We have here merely a philosophical premo- 
nition of the biological view of Von Baer and Miiller. From 
the notion of a necessary order of development is deduced a 
consequence that receives somewhat startling conJSrmation in 
the discoveries of embryology. 

The same necessity that Froebel saw in psycho-physiological 
recapitulation Lessing found in cultural recapitulation, or re- 
capitulation through education. It is thought that the process 
of absorbing the culture of humanity must pass through cer- 
tain necessary stages. This is not because the powers of the 
individual expand in a certain way, but because the culture 
material of one age constitutes the logical and necessary prep- 
aration for that of the next in the order of progress. This 
view is that suggested by Herbart in the ^Esthetic Revelation of 
the World, and developed by Ziller into the Culture Epoch the- 
ory. In this form it has played a famiHar part in educational 
theory and experiment both in Germany and in the United 
States. 

Up to a certain point the criticisms of the two theories of 
recapitulation are aHke. In so far as the order of development 



1 66 



Principles of Education 



The racial 
order 
partly in- 
evitable 
and partly- 
accidental 



Exceptions 
to psycho- 
physiologi- 
cal recapit- 
ulation 



of the physical or mental powers is, as it were, necessary and 
inevitable, both racial evolution and individual development 
must reveal this order, and hence correspond to each other. 
Similarly, wherever the culture of one epoch is an indispensable 
prerequisite to comprehending the culture of later periods, 
and ultimately of to-day, it must be given in the order of its 
history, as an introduction to the life with which the child 
will have to deal. On the other hand, it is certain that neither 
biological nor social evolution reveals any logical perfection of 
progress from antecedent to consequent conditions. Hence 
the way is opened for individuals to vary from racial develop- 
ment. We might, then, expect, what as a matter of fact is 
true, that the ontogenetic series should not perfectly reproduce 
the phylogenetic one in either psycho-physiological or cultural 
recapitulation. It is in the extent of the exceptions to recapitu- 
lation and in the manner in which they are made that the main 
difference between the two types is to be found. Concerning 
these exceptions to psycho-physiological recapitulation, Mar- 
shall, who makes much of the general fact, says : — 

"The history of development in different animals or groups 
of animals offers to us, as we have seen, a series of ingenious, 
determined, varied, but more or less unsuccessful efforts to 
escape from the necessity of recapitulating, and to substitute 
for the ancestral process a more direct method,"^ 

Hence, although the fact of recapitulation remains in general 
true, there is often a more direct method of reaching the goal 
of development. Moreover, this more direct method has in 
many cases been brought into existence. The most striking 
modification of recapitulation is the development of infancy. 
Here, of course, no adult stage of ancestral hfe is represented. 
Moreover, the existence of infancy offers at once opportunity 
and need for furttier variation in the recapitulatory series. 

^Biological Lectures and Addresses, "The Recapitulation Theory," p. 255. 



Recapitulation 167 

The stage of reproduction is of necessity postponed until 
maturity, thus coming after epochs that it antedated count- 
less ages in the phylogenetic series. Associated with the be- 
ginning of infancy is the development of food yollc in con- 
nection with the ovum. This store of nourishment removes 
the need of self-help on the part of the young, and so makes 
possible immaturity. An earlier but less efficient maturity 
is thus given up in exchange for a later more efficient one. 
However, any tendency on the part of the protected and sup- 
ported young to rush rapidly through the stages of develop- 
ment receives the support of natural selection, for it relieves 
the parent by so much of the burden of sustaining other life, 
and thus increases the total efficiency of the stock. Hence 
variations toward a more direct process of development than 
that of recapitulation will be encouraged. Such variations 
do appear. 

"We are in some danger of assuming tacitly that the mode 
of development of allied animals will necessarily agree in all 
important respects, or even in details, and that if the develop- 
ment of one member of a group be known, that of the others 
may be assumed to be similar. The more recent progress of 
embryology is showing us that such inferences are not safe, 
and that in allied genera and species, or even in different 
individuals of the same species, variations of development 
may occur affecting important organs and at almost any stage 
in their formation."^ 

It is evident that recapitulation is an hereditary trait, de- Method of 

Ipendent very largely upon the dynamic properties of the cell. ""^ ' ^'"° 

IS such, it is liable to variation along with all other hereditary 

traits. Such variations will, of course, be favored or repressed 

by natural selection according as they benefit or injure the 

stock. Under these conditions we might expect that the life 



It 



1 68 Principles of Education 

history of any individual to-day would represent inversions 
and omissions of the phylogenetic series. These latter are very 
appropriately called "short cuts" by Professor Baldwin.^ On 
the other hand, the ultimate result is not required to be perfect, 
so long as it works in the conditions of life presented to-day. 
Recapitulation may, therefore, be regarded as partly the sur- 
vival of unnecessary but harmless hereditary tendencies, and 
partly as the only method by which the mature form can be 
developed. The historical order contains many accidental 
stages, some of which may have been eliminated from individual 
development, while others remain as rudimentary. However, 
those stages that are indispensable to attaining the goal are 
bound to remain, and to appear in the order of their evolution. 
Recapitulation is an hereditary tendency more or less well 
calculated to attain a certain result. This tendency remains 
so long as no better way of attaining the same end chances 
to appear and to replace it in the struggle for existence. 

If the tendency toward psycho-physiological recapitulation 
does not represent the only method of reaching the goal of 
cultural re- maturity, but is subject to variation and selection, much more 
tfon " ^ can this be said of cultural recapitulation. For cultural re- 
capitulation concerns social heredity, and this, as we have 
seen, is largely made up of characters that are left to be thus 
handed on in order that they may the more easily be dropped 
out when the conditions of life to which they are fitted change. 
To modify a tendency toward psycho-physiological recapitu- 
lation, nature must have variations, and must ehminate those 
who do not vary rightly. To modify a tendency toward cul- 
tural recapitulation mankind has only to change the method of 
education in such ways as are possible. As a matter of fact 
the greater part of our cultural history could be left out of the 
training of the individual without seriously impairing his effi- 
^ Mental Development, Methods mid Processes," Ch. I, § 4. 



Recapitulation 169 

ciency. Consequently much has been left out. Social he- 
redity is a badly mutilated fragment of recapitulation. Nev- 
ertheless, much unnecessary recapitulation doubtless remains, 
because no substitutes have been invented, as the Chinese in 
Lamb's celebrated "Essay on Roast Pig" continued to bum 
down their houses in order to secure this prized viand, waiting 
for chance to reveal a better way. 

We may say then, in conclusion, that in so far as the Summary 
phylogenetic series in biological or cultural evolution repre- 
sents a necessary order of development the ontogenetic series 
will reproduce it. Since, however, this necessary sequence is 
by no means an universal characteristic of racial history, the 
way is open for exceptions to recapitulation. The tendency 
toward psycho-physiological recapitulation can be modified 
only by the method of variation and selection that consti- 
tutes the mode of progress for physiological heredity in gen- 
eral. Nevertheless, it has been extensively modified, espe- 
cially in connection with the rise of infancy, which has upset 
considerably the tendency for the racial order of development 
to appear in the individual. On the other hand, cultural 
recapitulation is a matter of social heredity, and in so far as 
it is not the inevitable order of apperceiving experience can 
be readily modified as chance or reason may suggest. 

Section 21. Psycho-physiological recapitulation and educa- 
tion 

The notion of psycho-physiological recapitulation has been Twofonnsof 
applied to education in two general forms. It has been held 
to furnish the clew to the order in which are developed either 
the faculties of the mind, on the one hand, or the instincts of 
the individual, on the other. The general notion as to the 
order of development of the faculties was not, however, origi- 



170 



Principles of Edtication 



Rise of the 
notion of 
develop- 
ment ac- 
cording to 
the fac- 
ulties 



Combination 
of this 
view with 
that of 
recapitula- 
tion 



nally an outcome of the theory that we are considering. It 
antedated that theory, and, in consequence, has no necessary 
connection therewith. Nevertheless, when the thought of 
recapitulation became prominent, the older view based on 
the so-called "faculty" theory of the mind was recognized as 
in harmony with it. According to this view, all mental de- 
velopment is thought to begin in sense observation, to be con- 
tinued in imagination and memory, and to conclude in reason 
and judgment. The theory became emphasized shortly after 
the Renaissance, when science began to be differentiated from 
metaphysics, and philosophy came to be approached from the 
point of view of psychology. As a result of the one move- 
ment, it was recognized that the purely speculative methods 
of the schoolmen should give place to methods founded on ob- 
servation. Observation becomes, therefore, the first step in 
scientific progress. The second, or psychological, movement 
emphasized the dependence of the content of the mind upon 
the material furnished by the senses. There resulted in edu- 
cation a realistic tendency, the essential features of which were 
that it was thought that the subject matter of education should 
consist largely of things and less of words, and that the initial 
step in method should be an appeal to the senses. 

No one can doubt the essential truth of these educational 
principles. It will readily be seen that they can be made part 
of a theory of recapitulation based on the analysis of mental 
activity into faculties. The development of the theory ren- 
dered inevitable this application, and we find it made by many 
writers of the early nineteenth century. A typical statement 
is that found in Rosenkranz's Philosophy of Education. 
According to this writer the presentation of any subject may 
be according to the logical order of its subject matter, or to 
the psychological order of the development of the mental 
powers. From the latter point of view, Rosenkranz divides 



Recap itu lation 171 

the life of the child into an intuitive, an imaginative, and a Application 
logical epoch. During the first of these periods the appeal ^ew^to 
should be to the senses. Later, imagination and memory are education 
called into play, and the entire movement should culminate 
in stirring up the logical processes. 

In a general way, the view thus indicated is true enough, and Criticism of 
practical as applied to teaching. It needs, however, to be cation'^*" 
subjected to an amendment. It involves the assumption 
that the faculties are distinct from each other, and that they 
develop independently. The child, it is assumed, first ob- 
serves without remembering or imagining to any great extent. 
He thus develops a power of observation that may be used in 
any field without reference to subject matter. Later other 
powers appear, and as soon as one emerges a new form of 
instruction becomes possible. It is absurd to reason with a 
child who has not yet attained to the logical period, or to ex- 
pect him to remember and imagine while he is still in the in- 
tuitive age. Moreover, when once children have reached the 
rational age, it is supposed that they will be logical on any sub- 
ject. AU these assumptions are faulty. As a matter of fact, 
a child usually is in the intuitive epoch in respect to some sub- 
jects and in the logical one as regards others. The analysis 
of the mental processes does not, we now realize, mean the 
discovery of independent faculties, but rather the revelation 
of the forms through which any given content must pass as 
the mind reflects upon it and utilizes it in new conditions. As 
a guide to the method by which new material must be pre- 
sented, the idea of a psychological order of development is of 
great value. But as a clew to the way in which a subject must 
be taught to a child of certain age, no matter what his previous 
experience with that material may have been, it is, to say the 
least, to be used with caution. Common sense, indeed, tells 
us that we cannot expect from young children certain compli- 



172 Principles of Education 

cated pieces of reasoning, based on comprehensive experience 
and a large number of well-mastered concepts. Nevertheless, 
it is astonishing what seemingly impossible feats such children 
will perform, provided the ground is properly prepared. 
Mathematical analysis impossible to untrained though intel- 
ligent adults can be carried on by children in the primary 
grades. 

The faculty theory is so intimately connected with that of 

formal discipline that appKcations of the former conception are 

likely to involve the latter one as well. Since the notion of 

formal discipline will be discussed in a separate chapter,^ we 

may here omit to consider it. As concerns the main issue, 

that of recapitulation, we may say that in so far as the epochs 

distinguished represent a necessary order in treating a subject 

matter, they will be illustrated in the learning of that subject 

matter either by the race or by the child. However, so far 

as the apperceiving mind is concerned, an intuitive epoch for 

one subject may be contemporaneous with a logical epoch for 

another. 

Rccapituia- A morc Original and characteristic application of the idea 

deve/o ^^^ ^^ psycho-physiological recapitulation is found when we apply 

ment of it to the Order of development of the instincts. All education 

stincts' must address itself to these, because all learning springs from 

activity in the endeavor to satisfy instincts in situations with 

The theory wliich our instinctive or habitual reactions fail to cope. Until 

totht^order Certain instincts appear, the child would have no motive for 

in which acquiring the experience that naturally clusters about them. 

should be The teacher, could, therefore postpone instruction along these 

presented jj^^^ ^^^^ ^^ favorable period. Hence, if recapitulation holds 

of the instincts, the teacher will get valuable information from 

a study of the racial history. Thus he will be able to discover 

the kind of material that will be likely successively to interest 

* Compare Ch. X. 



Recap itu lation 173 

the child, and, since the order of apperception is the order of 
interest, he will be able to present the content of culture in the 
form most favorable to its ready assimilation. Moreover, if 
complete cultural recapitulation is regarded as in great part 
unnecessary, at any rate the instincts that should be developed 
may, by consulting the order of the evolution of the culture 
materials relating to them, be appealed to in the proper se- 
quence and with appropriate subject matter. 

The idea that instincts are transitory, and that there is a 
favorable time for appealing to each, is well brought out by 
Professor James. 

"In all pedagogy the great thing is to strike the iron while james on 
hot, and to seize the wave of each pupil's interest before the seizing the 
ebb has come, so that knowledge may be got and a habit of moment" 
skill acquired — a headway of interest, in short, secured on in educa- 
which afterward the individual may float. There is a happy *'°" 
moment for fixing skill in drawing, for making boys collectors 
in natural history, and presently dissectors and botanists ; 
then for initiating them into the harmonies of mechanics and 
the wonders of physical and chemical law. Later, intro- 
spective psychology and the metaphysical and religious mys- 
teries take their turn ; and last of all, the drama of human 
affairs and worldly wisdom in the widest sense of the term." ^ 

It is evident that the view here expressed does not involve 
the notion that the instincts that are transitory in the indi- 
vidual recur in the order of their appearance in race history. 
The illustrations are, indeed, by no means calculated to jus- 
tify such a view, except in a very general way. We may then 
conclude that the idea of recapitulation finds its value in 
merely suggesting an appropriate order of appealing to the 
instincts and of presenting the culture materials, but that 
the racial order must be verified in the development of the 

* Principles of Psychology, Vol. I, p. 401. 



1 74 Principles of Education 

individual before it can be regarded as an accredited guide for 

educational practice. 
The theory The educational application of the idea of recapitulation 
tothe^hi-^ according to the instincts becomes a more thoroughgoing 
terests that affair with those who see in the development of these instincts, 

should be ,,,..., , . 

cultivated not merely an agency oi education m its endeavor to bring 
about efficiency, but a goal at which education should aim 
without regard to the specific utility of the result. Thinkers 
of this sort beheve that ail instincts should be cultivated be- 
cause they represent the order of nature in child growth, and 
because through their development the child realizes his na- 
ture. On this view many instincts, such as those associated 
with fighting and fearing, which education ordinarily neglects 
or represses, should be fed and given their fling. The con- 
ception of recapitulation helps us to become aware of this 
neglect in child culture, and the search of racial culture com- 
bines with a more scientific child psychology to reveal many 
interests that a supposedly imperfect educational system has 
suffered to atrophy in the child. 

This positive culture of all the stages and instincts in racial 
history that incipiently appear in the development of the 
child is advocated by President HaU, not merely as a means 
of self-realization, but also as a measure of the wisest utility. 
He says : — 

Hall on ai- ''Rousseau would leave prepubescent years to nature and to 

lowing the thesc primal hereditary impulsions and allow the hereditary 
"the'ir traits of savagery their fling till twelve. Biological psychology 
fling" finds many and cogent reasons to confirm this view, if only the 
proper environment could be provided. The child revels in 
savagery, and if its tribal, predatory, hunting, fishing, fighting, 
roving, idle, playing proclivities could be indulged in the coun- 
try, and under conditions that now, alas ! seem hopelessly 
ideal, they could conceivably be so organized and directed as 
to be far more truly humanistic and liberal than aU that the 



Recap itic la Hon 175 

best modern school can provide. Rudimentary organs of the 
soul now suppressed, perverted, or delayed, to crop out in 
menacing forms later, would be developed in their season so 
that we should be immune from them in maturer years, on the 
principle of the Aristotelian Catharsis for which I have tried 
to suggest a far broader apphcation than the Stagirite could 
see in his day. 

''These nativistic and more or less feral instincts can and 
should be fed and formed. The deep and strong cravings of 
the individual to revive the ancestral experiences and occu- 
pations of the race can and must be met, at least in a second- 
hand and vicarious way, by tales of the heroic virtues the child 
can appreciate, and these proxy experiences should make up 
by variety and extent what they lack in intensity. The teacher 
art should so vivify all that the resources of hterature, tradi- 
tion, history can supply which represents the crude and rank 
virtues of the world's childhood, that with his almost visual 
imagination reenforced by psychonomic recapitulatory im- 
pulses the child can enter upon his full heritage, Hve out each 
stage of his Life to the fullest, and realize in himself all its mani- 
fest tendencies. Echoes out of the vaster richer life of the 
remote past they must remain, but just these are the mur- 
murings of the only nurse that can save from the omnipresent 
dangers of precocity. Thus we not only rescue from the 
danger of loss, but utilize for further psycliic growth, the results 
of the higher heredity, which are the most precious and poten- 
tial things on earth." ^ 

This passage gives us an original and brilliant defense of Three reasons 
the utiHty of encouraging all the instincts that the child's Ijgj^r'^j 
growth tends to recapitulate. It will be noticed that three capitula- 
reasons are offered for this policy. In the first place, it is de- 
clared that if these instincts are not cultivated at the time when 
they naturally are strongest, their development is retarded, 
and they are liable to appear later in perverted forms. Sec- 
ondly, the point is made that a child who is not allowed to 

1 Adolescence, Preface, pp. x and xi. 



tion 



176 Principles of Education 

revel in these instinctive occupations runs the risk of arrested 
development from too early precocity. Finally, by means of 
the rich fund of material thus developed, President Hall thinks 
the life of the man is rendered many-sided, significant, and 
resourceful. The fund of material for variation, both in the 
individual and in the race, is enormously expanded. He 
would have this education of the primitive instincts given in 
the period from five to eight or nine. Thereafter, in his opin- 
ion, a more coercive school training should be carried on, 
which should follow to a great extent the methods of "old- 
fashioned" schoolmasters. 
(i) Criticism The Conception thus advanced is exceedingly suggestive. 
"Iharsh '^'^' Presented with the enthusiasm and with the richness of illus- 
theory tration that characterizes the author, it can prove convincing. 
It is, however, not to be entertained without important res- 
ervations. The view that all instincts that are not encour- 
aged at the time when they are at floodtide are apt to mani- 
fest themselves later in perverted forms is one that masses 
together much truth and many false impHcations. There is 
probably no instinct to which it applies so directly as it does 
to the sexual one, — an instinct, by the way, that plays the 
Hamlet role in President Hall's discussions. Now while there 
can be Httle doubt as to the fact that the control of this in- 
stinct demanded by civiHzation leads to many perversions, it 
is certainly true that the consequences of feeding the instinct, 
either by actual indulgence or vicariously by stimulating the 
fancy, are far more dangerous both to the individual and to 
society than the resolute effort to bring it under control by 
the methods of antagonizing heredity that have been already 
discussed.^ Especially do we find effective the substitution of 
ideal or romantic love. The tendency of advancing civiliza- 
tion, while it may favor a certain frankness in such matters, 

^ Compare § 11. 



Recapitulation 



177 



and may also avoid puritanical or monastic extremes, is ap- 
parently constantly in the direction of more careful and effec- 
tive control. When we consider such savage tendencies 'as the 
predatory, the hunting, the fighting, the roving, the idle pro- 
clivity, one wonders just what serious perversions are apt to 
result from the failure properly to indulge them in childhood. 
The idea of a catharsis of these instincts, while intensely inter- 
esting as a general notion, does not seem to be so vitally im- 
portant when we consider the dangers against which this sort 
of vaccination is aimed. Indeed, perversion, or, at any rate, 
degeneration, is far more likely to come from an over- indulgence 
in these tendencies, which so intensifies the interest in the life 
they involve that the more humane, civilized, and ethical ten- 
dencies have a difficult battle to displace them. Moreover, it 
would seem that the infancy, or the immaturity, of these in- 
stincts would find its value in that it enables us to suppress 
or modify such relics of a mode of Hfe no longer necessary or 
desirable. 

If a given instinct is to play an important part in the adult Conditions 
life of the individual, neglect of it during the period of child- 
hood when it becomes prominent will leave the individual so 
untrained that his later activities in reference to it may well 
seem like perversions. To make a hunter, a tennis player, or 
one with a graceful presence and readiness of resource in society, 
the hunting, tennis playing, and social tendencies of the youth 
must be cultivated. One who late in life takes up for the first 
time sports involving physical skill, or attempts to play a 
role in fashionable society after a youth and early manhood 
spent in entirely difTerent scenes, finds readjustment exceed- 
ingly difficult, if not impossible. But awkwardness is not in it- 
self perversion, although it makes one dissatisfied, and may lead 
to morbidness. The adult who suddenly develops an interest 
in activities normal to childhood, but neglected then, is bound 



178 Principles of Education 

to appear ridiculous to the onlooker, because his interest is 
childish and naive, rather than experienced and sophisticated. 
HoweVer, for a man to play a child's part argues a lack of bal- 
ance or of training, but not, as a rule, a perversion. 

The important consideration is, after all, the positive one. 
Instincts should be cultivated if they contribute to the resources 
of life. If they do not do this, they should not be trained in 
childhood merely for fear that otherwise peculiarities of nature 
or of circumstances may lead them to appear in ridiculous 
forms in adults. There is very little likelihood that they will 
crop out in adult life unless they form the basis of a very im- 
portant phase of the life of the normal man or woman. When 
such is the case, the endeavor on the part of one who has hith- 
erto neglected the aspect of life that they condition again to 
resume his heritage will doubtless seem to the onlooker absurd 
or pitiable. 
(2) Criticism The notion that to neglect the cultivation of the instincts 
theo^^ of ^^ ^ child will lead to too early maturity and, in consequence, 
"arrested to arrested development, or improper maturation, is also one 
m^lt"' that stirs enthusiasm as a striking generalization more easily 
than it compels assent when it is subjected to the test of facts. 
Causes of this It is both true and trite that when children are pushed too 
rapidly along the lines of old-fashioned school discipline, they 
run the risk of a loss of health which may involve arrested 
development. It is also true that when children are driven 
to do work in which they have as yet no instinctive interest, 
or for undertaking which they have no adequate basis of expe- 
rience, they are likely to acquire a distaste for it which may 
seriously impair their chance of later success in this field. 
Moreover, many facts conspire to show that when children 
are compelled to get their living at an early age, and so to ac- 
quire what corresponds to an adult adjustment at a time when 
they do not possess an adult's experience or mental and physi- 



Recapitulation 1 79 

cal vigor, there is danger that they may never get beyond the 
habits thus prematurely ingrained. The child bootblack be- 
comes the man bootblack. Here habit and specialization may 
constitute in a peculiar degree a bar to progress, because it 
prevents the acquisition of a fund of experience and of apti- 
tudes by which readjustment is rendered possible or easy. 

It is interesting to note that here what may be called the pri- Conflict oi 
mary function of infancy comes a little in conflict with a sec- 
ondary one. The primary function of mfancy is not so much 
to ward off maturity as it is to offer the child a chance to 
develop the habits best suited to its environment without the 
interference of hereditary characteristics ill-adapted to the pres- 
ent conditions. But if the child acquires a mature adjustment 
too early, it will encounter, when readjustment becomes desir- 
able, the same difficulties that would have existed had it in- 
herited acquired characters. Early maturity, whether in 
individuals or races, usuall)^ goes with a low average inteUigence 
and set modes of Hfe. This, if not quite so true of an early 
maturity that results from training as it is of one that is hered- 
itary, holds, nevertheless, of both. The bread-winning occu- 
pations of which a child is capable are of necessity far more 
limited and in a sense more speciaHzed than those that an adult 
can carry on. Early specialization does not promote later 
progress except along the lines of the specialty. Such early 
maturity is a danger, because it prevents the child from ac- 
quiring his proper equipment of experience. It is bad because 
of what it crowds out. It is bad because it means an adjust- 
ment that for the time contents, and this contentment by con- 
tinuing is apt to deprive the individual of any incentive for 
betterment, until the age of readjustment is past. In man 
the infancy, that exists primarily that each generation may 
have a freedom to obtain the adjustment peculiar to its con- 
ditions of life, comes to have the secondary function of afford- 



i8o 



Principles of Education 



necessary 
to prevent 
arrested 
develop- 
ment 



(3) Criticism 
of the 
theory of 
provision 
for varia- 
tion 



ing an opportunity for acquiring, not so much specific mature 
adjustments, as rather a resourceful action system of habits 
and experience that shall constitute the capital for all later 
readjustment. 

We may then agree with President Hall that child education 
should avoid premature specialization; that is, speciaKza- 
tion that is likely to be a bar to readjustment or to the accu- 
mulation of resources for readjustment. We can further sub- 
scribe to the view that it is in deep plowing of the soil of the 
instincts that we get the best preparation for broad interests 
and resourceful intelligence in the emergencies of life. But 
this does not require that education should encourage tenden- 
cies that the race has outlived, or interests that play no part 
in adult life. Many children love to tease and bully. This 
is a rehc of the primitive instinct of leadership, — an instinct 
still very useful, but not to be cultivated by encouraging the 
cruder acts to which it prompts. The hunting instinct will 
very likely before many centuries cease to serve any useful 
educational purpose. Fighting and the predatory instinct 
are not to be indulged simply because such a course may pre- 
vent premature maturation. 

When we get away from the negations of the idea that we 
should cultivate the instincts for the sake of catharsis or of 
avoiding prematuration, and enter the region of affirmations, 
we reach President Hall's third point. It is, he thinks, by 
cultivating the instincts that material for variation, both in 
the child and in the race, is to be developed. The idea that 
the race is to be improved in this manner begs the question 
in favor of the inheritance of acquired characters, but there 
can be no doubt that an education that aims to equip the 
individual with power of readjustment must select those inter- 
ests that are organic in the social life of to-day, and cultivate 
them in a free and comprehensive way. This does not mean, 



Recapitu la Hon 1 8 1 

however, that much that children may or must like is not to 
be kept in innocuous slumber. Education everywhere vali- 
dates its work by reference rather to the needs of life to-day 
than to the inherited tendencies of the child. The cultivation 
of the instincts, even when it is providing for readjustment, 
should be a selective rather than a promiscuous process. 
Social heredity exists to supplement, direct, modify, or even to 
suppress physiological heredity, and not merely to promote 
the course of nature. 

In summary, we may note that the conception of psycho- Summary 
physiological recapitulation has been applied to education in 
two forms: first, as indicating the order of development of 
the faculties, which it is supposed to be the business of edu- 
cation to cultivate, and second, as pointing out the time of 
appearance of the instincts, to which education must appeal, 
if it is not to lack motive and so fail of effect. The idea that 
the faculties develop in a certain order appeared in education 
before the idea of recapitulation, but when the latter notion 
was advanced, it was used to support the former. According 
to the resulting view the age of the child will determine the 
method by which any subject should be presented to him. 
This notion is faulty because a faculty means the power of 
dealing with specific material in a certain way, — a power 
which depends quite as much upon the child's previous expe- 
rience and training in the given subject matter as it does upon 
his age. Thus children may be in the intuitive epoch in regard 
to some subjects, and in the logical one in respect to others. 
Little children can reason within limits, and older ones need 
to have their powers of observation appealed to. In fact, 
observation, memory, and reason are intimately interrelated, 
and it would be true to say that reason helps memory and power 
to observe quite as much as it is helped by them. The treat- 
ment of any topic will, in general, involve the exercise of the 



1 82 Principles of Education 

faculties in the order of recapitulation, but further than this 
the conception in question does not apply. 

The study of racial history proves more useful to the teacher 
in revealing the instincts to v/hich he must appeal and the or- 
der of their appearance. It shows him many useful instincts 
which he might otherwise have neglected, puts him on the 
alert for their appearance at certain times, and suggests cul- 
ture material that can be utilized in stimulating them. It 
helps to reveal the time at which certain valuable subjects 
can best be presented. When, however, it is urged that all 
the racial instincts that tend to reappear in the development 
of the child should be cultivated, our fundamental conception 
that in man physiological heredity is largely of such a character 
as not to determine the specific lines of education, but rather 
to oifer the materials from which education can select the 
definite adjustments needed at the time, should be apphed. 
Accordingly, we may conclude that many instincts should be 
neglected or suppressed. However, the Hfe of man to-day is 
so full of the need for readjustment that the education of the 
child becomes of necessity more an accumulation of resources 
for this purpose and less the acquisition of specific adjustments. 
It follows that education must exercise great care lest instinc- 
tive tendencies and culture material that may prove useful 
are not suppressed or neglected because that use cannot be 
definitely foreseen. In general, a broad cultivation of what 
nature has given the child for the sake of readjustment is a 
good preparation to make an adaptable man. Nevertheless, 
the problem of selection cannot be dodged by the teacher, nor 
the issue of progress settled by an appeal to the bhnd forces 
that come up to us out of the past. 



Recapitulation 183 



Section 22. Cultural recapitulation 

That our education carries us through stages that have Culture as re- 
constituted epochs in the history of social progress is a much ^q*^"^^' 
more evident fact than that of biological evolution. As soon 
as one reflects even superficially on the process of education, 
he is impressed with the fact that it consists very largely in 
bringing the cliild up to the standard adjustment of the adult. 
When we add to the consciousness of this fact the historical 
knowledge that enables one to understand that human history 
has been one of progress rather than of degeneration, it is in- 
evitable that the parallel between the educational development 
of the child and the gradual evolution of higher adjustments 
and standards in the race should be quickly recognized. 

Mention has already been made of the general notions of 
Lessing on what he called The Education of the Human Race. 
These ideas were further developed by Herder in his Ideas for 
a Philosophy of History. We find them receiving educational 
application by Herbart in the following words, which consti- 
tute the suggestion of the culture-epoch theory, later elaborated 
by Ziller: — 

"It would be somewhat difficult to state the starting point Herbart on 
of progressive sympathy and to justify the statement. Closer ^^^ culture 
consideration shows that this point cannot lie in the actual t^e child 
present. The child's sphere is too narrow, and traversed too 
soon, the adult's sphere among cultivated people too high and 
too much determined by relationships which we would not 
explain to the little boy if we could. But the true successions 
of history end in the present, and in the beginnings of our 
culture among the Greeks an illuminated spot for the whole 
of posterity is formed by the classical representations of an 
ideal boyhood in the Homeric poems." ^ 

^ Esthetic Revelation of the World (Felkin's translation). 



1 84 



Principles of Education 



This notion that we must go to simpler social conditions 
and, indeed, to those that constitute the beginnings of culture 
to find the sort of experience with which the education of the 
child's sympathies should begin is elaborated by Ziller into the 
culture-epoch theory. Not only does Ziller suppose that there 
is a. series of stages in racial history that furnishes the materials 
which are successively most appropriate for the culture of the 
child's social nature, but by the use of the theory of concentra- 
tion he was able to outline a scheme for the organization of 
the study of physical nature on a similar basis. Assuming 
with Herbart that moral character is the aim in education, 
and that this expresses itself in the social relations of life, he 
succeeded in concentrating all the studies of the school about 
the humanities, and especially history. Mathematics, natural 
science, grammar, and logic, according to this scheme, are 
taken up in order to further the comprehension of the culture 
of the epochs that the sequences of history present. 

It is important to bear in mind that with the Herbartians 
the fundamental justification of the arrangement of study 
according to the culture epochs lay in their view that this order 
is that of proper apperception. The ideas and customs of one 
age constitute in their view the natural introduction to those 
of the next. This is the inevitable order of the development 
of the material of social heredity. It is not a question of suit- 
ing the instincts as they come into activity, but rather of 
logical arrangement of the content of education so that it 
proceeds properly from the old to the new, from the simple 
to the complex, from the near to the remote. The order of 
cultural history is supposed to be the order of apperception. 

If, then, any one of the earlier phases of culture is unneces- 
sary as an introduction to the life of to-day, it may be omitted 
in the education of the child. We may suppose that there 
are many such exceptions. Invoking our principle that social 



Recap itu lation 



185 



heredity consists in great measure of adaptations to variable 
and so temporary conditions, we may well believe that any 
resolute attempt to recapitulate racial epochs would lead not 
along a highway of continuous progress, but rather into a 
succession of blind alleys. Tliis difficulty becomes evident 
when we study specifically the results of Ziller's plan. 

First of all, this plan makes the treatment of subjects out- 
side of history and literature difficult. To lead the child 
through the study of the scientific conceptions of earlier periods 
in human history is a laborious and to a considerable extent 
an unnecessary task. The history of science, as contrasted 
with the study of science itself, presents the curious and the 
abandoned elements of culture, rather than those that are 
valuable to-day, and while this subject has a place, it is rather 
at the end than at the beginning of scientific training. Again, 
the attempt to teach science as a means of comprehending past 
culture means to run the risk of leaving out much that is very 
important for the comprehension of modern life and the devel- 
opment of efficiency. Finally, the endeavor to drag in all the 
other studies at the heels of a study of history involves an almost 
imavoidable awkwardness of treatment. Phases of history 
that have little value from the historic or humanitarian point 
of view must be emphasized in order to furnish a basis for study- 
ing indispensable parts of science. It seems impossible to pro- 
vide for concentration in any but a most artificial way without 
transcending the possibihties of the ordinary school in both 
the extent and the difficulty of the program thereby involved. 

These objections to Ziller's plan of concentration are, it is 
true, partly the result of his notion of the aim of education 
rather than of the culture-epoch idea itself. If education aims 
at moral character alone, and does not expand this conception 
so that it becomes efficiency in all respects, industrial as well 
as social, it is evident that the humanities are far more impor- 



The culture- 
epoch 
theory in- 
applicable 
to the 
teaching 
of science 
and mathe- 
matics 



DifEculties 
due to con- 
centration 
about the 
humanities 



1 86 



Principles of Education 



De Garmo's 
scheme of 
coordina- 
tion. Re- 
capitula- 
tion in the 
humanistic 
group 



Dewey's 
scheme of 
concentra- 
tion about 
the social 
life of the 
school. 
Its use of 
recapitula- 
tion 



tant elements of culture than science. Indeed, they are the 
proper core of the curriculum. But the development of the 
more modern aim of preparation for complete living makes it 
necessary that we should lay great stress on aspects of culture 
that do not find their sole aim in that they contribute to social 
tact or capacity for social control, but instead function in rela- 
tion to the arts and crafts, and to those professions that involve 
expert knowledge of the laws of nature. Constantly increasing 
emphasis, especially in elementary education, on that phase of 
instruction that is least amenable to treatment on the basis of 
the principle of recapitulation has caused that idea to fall into 
neglect as a basis for the organization of prevailing courses of 
study. 

To avoid the difficulty here involved, Professor De Garmo 
has proposed what he calls a scheme of coordination.^ He 
would have three groups of closely interrelated subjects: the 
humanistic, where the ethical element is dominant and the 
idea of recapitulation applies ; the scientific, where, of course, 
the ethical element is absent and the culture-epoch idea has 
little or no place ; and the economic studies. The function 
of the last is, he conceives, to connect the ideal results of hu- 
manistic study with the instrumentalities for realizing these 
ideals that are revealed by a study of nature. In such a group, 
geography, or the study of the earth in its relation to man, is 
central. 

The scheme of concentration suggested by Professor Dewey ^ 
attempts to make the social fife of the child the core of the 
curriculum. This life gives rise to certain interests and prob- 
lems. It is supposed that in the endeavor to satisfy the one 
and to settle the other the child may be led to reach out into all 
departments of knowledge that mankind has so far accumu- 

* Herhart and the Herbariians, Part III, Ch. IV. 
2 The School and Society. 



Recapitulation 



187 



lated, and to avail himself of all the instrumentalities for re- 
search that have been discovered. On such a scheme, it is 
evident that the development of the social problems in the 
society of the school would naturally follow to some extent the 
history of these problems in the evolution of human society. 
However, as the school Ufe is brought in contact with modern 
adult conditions at a variety of points, it is evident that the 
extent of recapitulation will be limited to such issues as are 
inevitable, and must be met before the child can appreciate 
and so come face to face with the emergencies of the present 
day. Everywhere the ultimate aim of efficiency must exert 
its selective power, abbreviating, modifying, and rearranging 
the problems that have come up to us out of the past. 

Thus, even though Professor Dewey's scheme of concentra- 
tion is one that effectively brings science into unity with the 
humanities, and also offers a chance for recapitulation to play 
a part in reference to the central element of the scheme, this 
principle must of necessity be only a mere skeleton of arrange- 
ment, notable especially for the number of exceptions to it. 
If science balks at being presented in the racial order, even the 
humanities dodge, whenever possible, the influence of this prin- 
ciple of control. The conditions that demand a deviation from 
the plan of cultural recapitulation are well stated by Lange.^ 
He points out the impossibility of recreating except in a selec- 
tive way the cultural conditions of early peoples. They con- 
stitute adult conditions difficult even for the scientifically 
trained mind to comprehend from the point of view of those 
who actually dwelt in their midst. The child can absorb and 
sympathize with such phases of early culture as fit in with the 
social conceptions that he is taking in day by day from his 
modern environment. He sees antique civilization through 
spectacles that reveal only the colors of the glasses themselves, 
^Apperception (De Garmo's translation), pp. 110-151. 



The culture- 
epoch 
scheme not 
literally 
applicable 
even to the 
humanities 



1 88 Principles of Education 

— colors derived from the living conditions of to-day. He 
idealizes and glosses over the deeds of ancient men. Lange 
emphasizes the view that an elaborate subdivision of the course 
of study according to culture epochs is artificial and undesir- 
able, and the fact that much that has been prominent in the 
history of culture would be positively detrimental to the child. 
In general he says : — 

"In choice of matter from the historical point of view we 
discover all that is justifiable in Ziller's theory of culture 
epochs." 

In summary, we may say that the idea of cultural recapitu- 
lation has been emphasized by the Herbartians especially. 
To them it constitutes the order of apperception of the culture 
material that the child should absorb. By employing a scheme 
of concentration the core of which was history, a subject easily 
treated according to culture epochs, Ziller succeeded in apply- 
ing this principle in a thoroughgoing way to the curriculum. 
However, the order of evolution of social heredity is by no 
means an order that must or should be followed bhndly in 
the education of the child. What is thus handed on is trans- 
mitted by this agency in order that it may be modified when 
need arises for so doing. Cultural recapitulation is not in 
many respects the necessary order of apperception in intro- 
ducing present culture, and much that it would teach should 
be left out of education to-day. These difficulties appear 
especially when it is applied to science, which according to 
Ziller's scheme was subordinated to the humanities. Professor 
De Garmo separates science from the humanities and treats 
the latter in a measure by the plan of recapitulation. 
Professor Dewey suggests the problems that arise in the social 
life of the school as the proper core for a scheme of concentra- 
tion. These problems come up to some extent in the order of 



Recap itu lation 189 

recapitulation, and they lead into the study of science and 
industry better than the historical study of Ziller's scheme. 
However, many historical problems will not arise in a school 
society of to-day, and the order of appearance of such as do 
will deviate widely from that of their rise in social evolution. 



CHAPTER VII 



LEARNING BY TRIAL AND ERROR 



Section 23. General notion of learning 



Learning as a 
process of 
inner re- 
organiza- 
tion 



Replacement 
of outer by 
inner selec- 
tion 



The general analysis of the process of learning has already 
been given.^ We have seen that it is based upon a resourceful 
action system, a variety of wants, sensitivity to lack of adjust- 
ment, and the power to utilize resources in experimentation. 
These factors all have an hereditary basis. Learning is, there- 
fore, characteristically a process going on within the organism. 
It is essentially a matter of inner reorganization, for which 
environmental conditions furnish the stimulus. These ex- 
ternal forces do not determine what shall be learned. They 
merely insist that something be learned that will enable the 
organism to deal with them successfully, — the alternative, 
of course, being elimination. Such outer guidance of the learn- 
ing process is at best merely passive. The positive effort and 
the specific devices of readjustment all spring from within. 
The nature of these devices is determined by the nature of the 
learning organism, and not at all by the nature of the environ- 
ment, which everywhere confines itself to the role of approving 
or rejecting overt results. 

We have seen that even the selective function of the environ- 
ment has been absorbed by the organism which is able to learn. 
The environment selects by destroying the individual that 
reacts to it wrongly. The individual learns by eliminating 
the faulty reaction before the environment has completed its 

1 Compare §§ 9, 17, 18, 19. 
190 



Learning by Trial and Error 191 

work of selection by eliminating the individual who makes 
such a reaction. This power of anticipating and forestalling 
the selective activity of the environment is that sensitivity 
which was mentioned as the third of the factors involved in 
power to learn. It has further been characterized as affective 
consciousness. Disagreeable affective consciousness symbol- 
izes the destructive effect of persisting in present courses. It 
is symbolic, individual selection that anticipates and so re- 
places natural selection. 

Learning means, then, the power to profit by results. It Learning as a 
means the power to readjust by making experimental reactions, process of 
and preserving the one that proves most successful, or, to state by results, 
more literally the fact, the one that is least a failure. Failure ticipation°' 
is, indeed, always symbolic. Feeling does not permit the ulti- of results 
mate result of experimentation to be realized, otherwise there 
would be no learning for the individual, but merely destruc- 
tion. Natural selection improves the race, but it cannot 
teach the individual. However, even if feehng stops experi- 
mentation before it has gone to the bitter end, we may yet 
speak of it as a result. Hence learning, which is the power of 
continuing to do the things that feel most satisfactory, is a 
process of profiting by results. 

There is one phase of individual readjustment that has by Accustoming 
some been thought not to be learning because it seems to lack "^^^ f°™' 

° ^ monly con- 

this character. It is accustoming, or acclimation. Here ceived as 
conditions that were at first unsatisfactory, possibly even ^^""^^e 
dangerous to life, come to be endurable or even innocuous, 
apparently not because of any positive reaction that wards 
off the attack of these conditions, but rather because of a pas- 
sive change on the part of the organism that leaves it no longer 
susceptible to their influence. One naturally supposes that 
the body of the organism is subjected to physical or chemical 
changes that are the direct effect of the stimulus. The assump- 



192 



Principles of Educatio7i 



Method of 
explaining 
accustom- 
ing as 
learning 



roy|| 



tion is that, if these changes go on slowly, they do not destroy 
Hfe. Thus by a slow process one may attain safely a physio 
logical condition that could not have been reached swiftly. An 
organism may by gradual modification come to endure safely 
extremes of heat or of cold, of darkness, of rarefaction or con- 
densation of the air. If the degree of salinity in the water in 
which they live is increased by small increments, animals and 
plants may become inured to an amount of change that, if 
brought about suddenly, would destroy life. Thus we may 
accustom ourselves to eat substances at first injurious or even 
poisonous. The system comes to tolerate, indeed, to thrive 
upon them. We become immune to the toxins of various 
diseases. In the psychical realm, sights, sounds, touches, 
tastes, smells, and even pains, at first extremely irritating, may 
come to be utterly neglected or even pleasant, especially if the 
process of accustoming be gradual. 

Mr. Hobhouse regards accustoming as a type of readjust- 
ment that is clearly distinct from learning. 

"When after a certain experience the organism adapts itself 
better to a certain sort of stimulus, it has undoubtedly been 
modified by its experience, but it has not necessarily learnt 
anything by experience of results." ^ 

It is possible, however, that accustoming may represent 
genuine learning. Professor Jennings,^ making use of an idea 
derived from Ostwald, suggests that we may explain this process 
as one of selection from among a variety of chemical changes 
that are stimulated by variations in temperature, by poisons, 
etc. That change survives which makes possible the continu- 
ance of Hfe by counteracting the dangerous katabolism set up 
by the unaccustomed conditions. In that event, we have an 
illustration of learning by trial and error. The variety of 

^ Mini in Evolution, p. 82. ^ Behavior of the Lower Organisms, p. 346. 



Learning by Trial and Error 



193 



Difficulty in 
this ex- 
planation 



chemical changes may be regarded as experiments toward 
readjustment, and that reaction which nuUifies the dangerous 
effect of the stimulus becomes chronic, or habitual, the others 
disappearing by inhibition. 

Such an analysis, it will be observed, requires that we should 
identify in actual cases of accustoming the presence not only 
of experimental chemical reactions, but also of a process of 
symboHc, individual selection, like that which constitutes the 
function of affective consciousness. It is in reference to the 
last point that the theory is most apt to rouse incredulity. 
Yet if accustoming does not involve this sort of selection, it 
cannot be called profiting by results or learning. The indi- 
vidual must have the power of inhibiting the useless or danger- 
ous experiments and nourishing the successful one, or there 
would never be on his part any growth of ability to endure the 
changed condition. Instead of becoming acclimated, he would 
be destroyed. 

It would seem likely that accustoming represents, not a Accustoming 
process of experimental reactions and selection completed in reditary' 
the individual, but rather a fixed hereditary reaction to changes adjustment 
in the conditions of hfe that are sufficiently common to make 
an inherited mode of adjustment to them desirable or even 
necessary. In that event, the power to become inured to a 
certain environmental change would be, not the power of 
making experimental reactions, but rather that of immediately 
setting up the right one so that in time the situation will be 
met. Natural selection would have eliminated all who failed 
to develop or to inherit the power to make this fitting adjust- 
ment. The experiments would have been individuals, each 
having a tendency to respond somewhat differently to the 
irritating conditions. Nature would destroy all that failed to 
react in such a way as to become accustomed. 

However this may be, the suggested explanation of accustom- 



194 



Principles of Education 



Three condi- 
tions of dis- 
agreeable 
feeling : 



ing as a genuine case of learning may serve our purposes in 
two ways: It reveals clearly the essential elements involved 
in learning, and it emphasizes the fact that all adjustments, 
even those of a process apparently so mechanical as that of 
accHmation, are the pecuUar internal reactions of the organism, 
and not the mere passive effect of external conditions. Learn- 
ing, then, must involve first the power to make such character- 
istic internal reactions, not simply as adjustments definitely 
assigned by heredity to specific changes in the conditions of life, 
but rather as mere experiments toward readjustment ; and 
second, the capacity to profit from the results of this experi- 
mentation by selecting out the successful reaction, and thus 
forestalUng the destruction of the individual. Affective con- 
sciousness, or something in function analogous to it, must be 
operative. 

Section 24. The evolution of feeling 

Affective consciousness, or feeling, means, as we have seen, 
an internal agency for selection. Through it we substitute 
for natural selection symbolic, individual selection. Thus 
learning, or profiting by results, becomes possible to the indi- 
vidual. It is true, in feeling we do not have the ultimate out- 
come of the experiment in reaHty. But we have this ultimate 
result symbolized in terms that to the inner life of the individ- 
ual seem quite as important as the destruction or the preserva- 
tion of life that they signify. In the course of its evolution, 
feeling may be said to attach to three main conditions. Each 
condition gives rise either to agreeable or to disagreeable feel- 
ing, according to circumstances that are, of course, directly 
opposed to each other. The primary condition of disagreeable 
feeling is the existence in the body of dangerous kataboKsm; 
that is, katabolism that threatens, if continued, seriously 
to injure vitality, or indeed, to destroy hfe. Agreeable feeling 



Learning by Trial and Error 



195 



is here a consequence of the checking or reversal of such de- 
structive processes. The second type of disagreeable feeling 
is that roused, not by the actual existence of dangerous katab- 
olism, but rather by the presence of impulses which, if carried 
out, will more or less remotely lead to such a condition. This 
sort of feeling inhibits a wasteful or injurious impulse before 
the doing of the harm has begun. Corresponding to it we have 
the pleasure that sanctions an impulse beneficial in its outcome. 
Feeling, always anticipative of results, is in gaining this second 
condition enabled to predict them when they are remote. 
The tliird condition of disagreeable feeling is the presence of con- 
flicting impulses to action. The restoration of harmony in the 
inner Kfe would here, of course, be a condition of agreeable feeling. 

The second t3^e of feehng rises out of the first by the growth 
of sensitivity to symbolic conditions, and by the determina- 
tion of the feeling thus involved through the feeling character- 
istic of the condition symbolized or anticipated. Stimuli, not 
in themselves harmful, are yet indicative of the approach of 
harmful conditions, if these be not warded off. Hence, by 
association, the apprehension of these symbolic conditions 
become suffused with the quality of feehng that would ensue 
were the significances realized. If an organism requires a 
certain amount of light to carry on its vital processes, the 
appearance of a shadow in its locahty will be an irritating stim- 
ulus, giving rise to feehng of the first type, and thus rousing a 
negative reaction. But when an individual upon which the 
diminution in quantity of light produces no vital effect reacts to 
a shadow, it is doubtless because of what the shadow means 
rather than of what it is. It means, for example, the approach 
of an enemy, and the organism simply transfers to the appre- 
hension of the shadow the feehng associated with the injuries 
that this hostile creature is liable to inflict. 

Professor Jennings explains this reaction to representative 



(2) premoni- 
tory states 



(3) conflict- 
ing im- 
pulses 

Two factors 
involved in 
the devel- 
opment of 
the second 
from the 
first condi- 
tion of feel- 
ing 



196 



Principles of Education 



The law of 
physiologi- 
cal resolu- 
tion 



Its identity 
with that 
of irradia- 
tion of feel- 
ing 



Derivation 
of the third 
from the 
second con- 
dition of 
feeling 



stimuli as an illustration of his law of physiological resolution. 
States that succeed each other, owing to the succession of the 
stimuli that provoke them, may come to pass readily into each 
other, so that the stimulus to the first may without the aid of 
the other stimuK rouse in rapid sequence each of the following 
states. So, too, a condition aroused by a representative 
stimulus may come to pass rapidly into the state that accom- 
panies the presence of the condition that is represented. In 
that event, the representative condition is so quickly resolved 
into one of vital change that it practically gains the intensity 
and the quaHty of the feeling that accompanies such serious 
disturbances. The symbolic state A passes forthwith into a 
dangerous one B. They practically fuse, and in effect A be- 
comes as disagreeable as B was originally. 

Professor Jennings has observed cases — for example, the 
unicellular euglena and the sea urchin — where stimuH that 
at first met no response came ultimately to receive one because 
they represent other more vital threatening conditions. The 
same general principle finds common enough an illustration 
in the transference ^ or irradiation ^ of the feehngs in human 
experience. The uneasiness that was at first attached only 
to a certain state comes to accompany an earlier premonitory 
one. Feelings provoked by certain objects are thus in ways 
quite unaccountable to their subject attached to other objects. 
Introspection does not reveal the subtle associations through 
which many experiences derive their interest, their power to 
annoy or to delight. 

The third type of disagreeable feeling that we have dis- 
tinguished is connected with the struggle of conflicting im- 
pulses to action. It is evident that this sort of a condition is a 
normal outcome of disagreeable feeling. Such feeling stimu- 

^ Compare Sully, Psychology; and Ribot, Psychology of the Emotions, p. 176. 
^ Compare Ziehen, Introduction to Physiological Psychology. 



Learning by Trial and Error 197 

lates experimentation. If the experimenter possesses a re- 
sourceful action system, it is likely that many impulses will be 
simultaneously evoked. This is certain to happen when some 
impulses are at least partially inhibited as the result of a dim 
sense of the problematic character of their consequences. 
Thus an array of warring tendencies is marshaled forth, and 
the disagreeable feeHng that evoked them irradiates into the 
consciousness of their conflict. 

So constant is this association in man between disagreeable view that the 
feeling and a conflict of motor impulses that Professor Judd ^l^^ ^^ 
has declared ^ such struggle to be the sole condition of this sort general 

, . . condition 

of feeHng. As has just been shown, the relation might be of feeling 
stated in the reverse way. A conflict of impulses normally 
results from disagreeable feeHng. However, the inhibition 
and conflict of impulses is itself an unsatisfactory condition 
from the point of view of readjustment. It is only when such 
tendencies become coordinated, or at any rate, when some 
break loose from their inhibitions, that tension is relieved and 
satisfaction is felt. Thus, both from the point of view of the 
condition that provokes it, and the results that spring from it, 
the conflict of impulses is intimately associated with dissatis- 
faction. However, from the point of view of evolution, it 
seems evident that both feeling associated with dangerous 
katabolism, and feeling premonitory of such a condition if 
the impulse associated with it is carried out, should precede 
and furnish the basis for feeling provoked by a struggle of 
impulses. Therefore the list of conditions of feeling offered Angeii's 
by Professor AngeH ^ seems correctly to suggest the genetic dUkmsTf' 
order. According to this we have three sources of disagreeable disagree- 
feelings : (i) diseased conditions of the organism ; (2) exces- 
sive neural stimulation ; and (3) the checking or impeding 
of consciousness in the efforts to guide action. 

1 Psychology, Ch. VII. 2 Psychology, Ch. XIV. 



able feeling 



198 



Principles of Education 



While not identical with the classification of the conditions 
of feeling offered in the preceding discussion, Professor Angell's 
list suggests the simpler as well as the more complex conditions 
under which this selective principle may be supposed to work. 
At first operative to check katabolism before it has gone too 
far, feeling rouses reactions that serve as experiments toward 
remedying this condition. Thus profiting by results becomes 
possible. Then, through the growth of greater sensitivity 
and the working of the principle of irradiation, feeling is enabled 
to forewarn against dangerous conditions before they have 
actually come to pass. Thus it inhibits impulses that might 
lead to destructive consequences, and provokes others in the 
search for one free from the taint of suspicion. Learning be- 
comes more speedy. It forestalls injury more effectively, and 
the way is opened up for the avoidance of the dangers of actual 
experimentation. Finally, with the higher, more resourceful or- 
ganisms, feeling becomes wedded to those conditions of conflict 
which furnish the foundation for ideational readjustment, and 
in this the anticipation of results and the avoidance of the 
wear and tear of actual experimentation are at a maximum. 



Cognition 
implies 
ideational 
readjust- 
ment 



Section 25. Perceptual readjustment 

The essential feature of learning by trial and error is, as we 
have seen, the presence of acti^al as contrasted with mere 
ideational experimentation. But ideational readjustment does 
not Minerva-like spring suddenly into perfect operation. In- 
deed, we rarely if ever find it working without some assistance 
from the testing of actual results. On the other hand, when- 
ever cognition anticipates the outcome of an im^pulse, there 
some degree of ideational readjustment is present, for, as we 
have seen,^ cognitive consciousness has everywhere the task of 
learning as its fundamental function. 

^§18. 



Learning by Trial and Error 



199 



It is important to note that affection is concerned just as 
much in anticipating the outcome of action as is cognition. 
There is, however, this difference. Affection merely fore- 
shadows failure or success ; cognition presents a neutral 
descriptive account of the outcome, — an account that may 
mean failure or success according to purposes and circum- 
stances. The usefulness of cognition lies in that its material 
can be utiHzed in cases where the specific outcome of proposed 
reactions has never been tested. Affection registers the verdict 
of the actual test. Cognition so anticipates the result as to 
make possible a verdict without a test. 

We have seen ^ that cognition may by remembering the 
outcome of specific experiments strengthen the inhibitions or 
the approvals of feehng, thus assisting it in the formation of 
habits. This function is, however, merely incidental to its 
main one, which is to enlarge the action system by providing 
ideas of action based on past experience. Conscious memory 
saves what learning by trial and error loses. Our failures as 
well as our successes provide us with an experience which 
enhances our mental resources when again we learn. 

Cognition not only provides resources, but it gives them in a 
form that enables us to appraise their value, at least to some 
extent, without actual experimentation. It furnishes ideas of 
action. These ideas may be related, organized, compared, 
and thus their relative practical value may be determined by 
purely mental operations. This process of selecting by think- 
ing the idea that shall control action we have called, from what 
may be regarded as its perfected form, judgment. To have 
ideational experimentation, on the one hand, we must have 
experience manifesting itself in the form of ideas of possible 
action, and, on the other hand, the mechanism of feeling, 
which anticipates results already practically tested either in 



Functions of 
affection 
and cogni- 
tion 



Cognition an 
enlarge- 
ment of 
resources 
for action 



Ideational 
readjust- 
ment as 
involving 
both ideas 
and judg- 
ment 



200 Principles of Education 

the individual or the race, must be supplemented by some 
phase of the mechanism of judgment, by which we may fore- 
cast results that have never been specifically subjected to actual 
test. There must be notions of things to do, and the mind 
must be capable of bringing these into logical relations with 
each other. Instead of relying wholly on the test of the overt 
result, we must be able to submit our plan of action to some 
mental standard by which its reliability may be estimated. 
Perception a In perception, the simplest form of genuine cognition, we 
genuine j^^^^ ^^ illustration of ideational experimentation in its begin- 

C3-SC 01 

ideational nings. On the other hand, perceptual control is so dependent 
ment^^ ' upon the suggestions of the senses, and so wedded to the guid- 
ance of the apprehension of results, that it presents to us the 
features of learning by trial and error rather than those of 
learning through ideas alone. It will be our task in this sec- 
tion to show from an analysis of perception that, while it func- 
tions as an adjunct of trial and error learning, it illustrates, 
nevertheless, a genuine case of ideational readjustment. 
Conflict The preliminary condition of ideational readjustment is, as 

necessary ^^ j^^^^ ^^^^ -^^ ^^ jg^g^ scction, the inhibition of impulses. 

to the ' ^ *■ 

function- Only thus do we get a chance to put ideas in control of the 
mgo 1 eas ^^j.j.gj^^ q£ actiou. But the mere checking of one impulse is 
not enough, provided it merely makes way for another. There 
must be a number of impulses in struggle for supremacy, and 
these impulses must be associated with ideas of their nature 
and outcome. The struggle of impulses may then be regarded 
as a struggle of ideas. ^ This conflict can be settled by a battle 

1 It may be thought that I am talking in terms of an abandoned phase of 
the psychology of Hcrbart. The idea, as with the English Associationists, is 
dealt with as an entity that struggles with others, and, perhaps, fuses with them, 
but remains through all in its simple essence the same. This view seems to 
atomize consciousness in an entirely unwarranted way. My treatment of the 
idea does not imply that it is to have such substantial identity. We have only 
to think of it as a living thing, a mental activity, that is not of necessity per- 



Learning by Trial and Error 



20I 



under the rules of mental activity, — if you will, — of intel- 
ligence or of logic. Without a struggle of impulses, ideas get 
no chance to become adjusted to each other. Hence they do 
not function. If we can conceive them to be present at all, 
they are mere incumbrances to the impulses with which they 
are associated. 

A perception may be defined as an interpreted sensation. 
Perception Hfts sensation into consciousness by giving it 
meaning. The element of significance or relation comes from 
the past. It is that in the perception which is due to experi- 
ence, to memory. It is, however, so intimately fused with 
what the senses give that one cannot tell introspectively where 
sensation ends and interpretation begins. The separation can 
best be effected by experiments in which the same sensation 
receives, because of a different context or mental attitude, a 
different interpretation. Herein also may be seen the func- 
tion of perception. Since the same sensation may according 
to circumstances have several interpretations, and so several 
appropriate responses, perception becomes a process of attach- 
ing to a situation an interpretation which may be problematic 
or new, and in any case is sufficiently variable or unlearned 
to preclude an effective habitual response. Wherever such 
an habitual response becomes established, there perception 
abandons the field to automatism. Its function is to deter- 
mine the interpretation of sensations by reference to their 
contexts, and this is ideational readjustment. 

Perceptual interpretations are of many kinds. Two of the 
most important are what are known as recognition and locali- 
zation. Recognition is noting what an object is, localization 
is fixing its position. Both are fundamental to the proper re- 

manently individuated, but still is an entity playing a real part in determining 
the direction of consciousness. This view, I take it, agrees both with the 
accepted notions of psychologists to-day and with facts of experience. 



Perceptual 

interpreta- 
tions alway 
problem- 
atic 



Their deter- 
mination a 
matter of 
ideational 
readjust- 
ment 



Illustration 
in (i) the 
case of rec- 
ognition 



202 Principles of Education ^^B I 

action toward an object in space. Each is a result of a com- 
parison of sensory data more or less involved, although the 
processes of this comparison are not attended to and distin- 
guished. If a wolf hears a sound, as of the crackling of leaves, 
many interpretations of its meaning are possible. It may be 
caused by the wind and so bear no message of importance. 
It may be the tread of a Uving creature, — an animal upon 
which the wolf preys, a fellow-wolf, a hunter. The reaction of 
the Hstener should be different for each of these. The sound, 
doubtless, suggests to the wolf more or less vaguely each in- \ 
terpretation. The first result is an alertness of attention to 
various sensory clews that may corroborate one among the 
many objects vaguely conjectured. This attitude may be 
supplemented by an experimental one. The wolf may move 
about, it may bring into play various senses, in the hope that 
some new development will furnish the suggestion that will 
determine which interpretation to take. Perhaps one inter- 
pretation may, owing to something in the surroundings or to 
the individual feeHngs of the wolf, seize the attention and de- 
termine a tentative action. However, the developments of 
a few moments may to an alert animal signify the need of an 
immediate reversal of this reaction. Instead of running away, 
as from a dangerous enemy, perhaps it should be pursuing some 
creature upon which it feeds. 
(2) the case It will be Seen that the condition of perceptual control is 
one of alertness ; that is, one in which many interpretations 
are held ready to seize the focus of attention as new data come 
to the support of this or that one. It is in the corroborations 
and the contradictions of these data, in the correlation of them 
into a basis for a compromise or coordinated activity, that 
perception illustrates ideational readjustment. Such cor- 
relation is especially in evidence in localization. The locality 
of an exciting object is one of the most important of the data 



of localiza- 
tion 



Learning by Trial and Error 



203 



upon which a reaction toward it is based. If an object is a 
foot away, our movements in reference to it will be very dif- 
ferent from those toward the same object a mile away. If a 
cat pursues a bird, at a certain distance it crouches and creeps, 
at another it springs. These reactions are not dependent 
upon localization alone. What the object is, what accom- 
panies it, where it is, — all combine to constitute an array of 
specific conditions that may be very compHcated indeed. Yet 
each factor may be instrumental in determining the char- 
acter of the response. The reaction of a sheep toward a wolf 
may depend on the distance of the wolf, the character of the 
intervening country, the presence or absence of guardian dogs 
or men, and so on indefinitely. As a rule each factor will find 
its reflection in the total movement of the sheep. 

\ To bring out more clearly the compHcated nature of the data Complicated 
that enter into the adjustments of perception, we may note 
not only that the stimulus usually consists of many objects 
which must be recognized and perhaps localized in order to 
control action properly, but also that these processes of recog- 
nition and localization are themselves frequently a result of 
a correlation of data. We have shown how recognition may 
require the cooperation of several cues, and often involves 
quite a little experimental activity. Localization may be 
equally compHcated. If it takes place through vision, it in- 
volves a comparison of the image of the object to be located 
with its known size. Moreover, the number and size of inter- 
vening objects, relative clearness, binocular disparity, the 
amount of binocular convergence, and many other factors 
enter in to determine by joint or majority agreement the po- 
sition that shall be assigned to the object. 

The process by which these various factors in perception 
are weighed and resolved into a practical decision is, of course, 
not, like that of reasoning and judgment, clear to introspec- 



character 
of the per- 
ceptual 
process 



Principles of Education 



Illusions as 
illustrative 
of percep- 
tual "in- 
ference" 



Isolation of 
interpreta- 
tions as 
ideas 



tion. Indeed, without experimental aid one would not be able 
to detect the factors themselves.^ Yet, although obscure and 
not consciously recognized, these "premises" of perceptual 
interpretation are, nevertheless, taken account of, and where 
they are wanting or ambiguous effective perceptual control 
ceases. Illusions of distance arise because in the conflict of 
data certain unrehable ones overbear others. When we stand 
on the verge of an unusually high precipice, objects below seem 
like miniatures. Objects at a much greater distance but on 
the same level do not ordinarily seem smaller than they should. 
Since the experience of surveying things several hundred or 
more feet below is out of the common, the mind fails to read 
relative size immediately into distance, as it does in ordinary 
cases. There is a conflict among the cues as to the position 
of the thing, and the suggestion springing from the size of the 
image yields so far as the sense of distance is concerned, but 
reasserts itself, insisting that, if the objects are not far away, 
they must at least be very smaU. 

As memory evolves into greater retentiveness, the struggle 
to synthesize the various significances that attach to the sense 
impressions becomes fiercer. The ultimate outcome of this 
struggle is that the meanings are forced apart from the sensa- 
tions with which they were at first so closely fused, and are 
lifted into independent existence as ideas. When this is done, 
we have passed beyond perceptual readjustment, and have 
reached the beginnings of conscious reasoning. In regard to 
localization we become conscious first of the fact that we are 
estimating distance, then of the various estimates that are in 
conflict, and finally of the data on which these estimates are 
based. Here, as everywhere, clearer consciousness arises be- 
cause of its necessity as a means of readjustment. Perception 

1 Compare Stratton, Experimental Psychology and its Relation to Culture, Ch. 
II, "The Evidence for Unconscious Ideas." 



Learning by Trial and Error 



205 



attends in general only to those sensations that require mental 
readjustment in order that they may be interpreted properly. 
It evolves into reasoning in the endeavor to grapple with cer- 
tain of these interpretations more securely. 

In discussing the relation between consciousness and habit/ 
we noted that, while consciousness saves an account of the im- 
pulses that are eliminated in the formation of habits, neverthe- 
less, not all such material is preserved. Moreover, the de- 
termination of what shall be retained rests upon the very laws 
of habit which eliminate certain impulses and establish others. 
We remember selected experiences, and these are in a sense 
habitual experiences. This fact is especially well illustrated 
in the interpretations of perception. The process by which 
these are associated with their sensations is at bottom essen- 
tially one of trial and error, and the result is a habit. As 
consciousness grows richer, however, the standard of selection 
to which interpretations must submit in order to stick to the 
cues that excite them ceases to be merely the overt outcome 
of following them and becomes to a considerable extent their 
agreement with other interpretations which are themselves to 
some degree established by the laws of habit. 

The logic of perceptual readjustment is, for the most part, 
a logic of habit and of feeling. Habits of thought are thrust 
into company with other habits of thought. They can live 
if they can live harmoniously. Otherwise some must disap- 
pear. Often ways of thinking essentially inconsistent may 
survive because they never have been brought to bear upon 
the same acti\'ity in such a way that their inconsistency results 
in actual failure of readjustment. In that event certain inter- 
pretations disappear, not because they are inconsistent with 
established ideas, but because they do not work in practice. 
However, the repetition of such struggles, and the constant 



Habitual 
nature of 
perceptual 
interpreta- 
tions 



The logic of 
habit and 
feeling in 
perceptual 
readjust- 
ment 



2o6 



Principles of Education 



Rise of con- 
scious 
logic 



Mental ex- 
perimenta- 
tion in 
perceptual 
readjust- 
ment 



recurrence of a settlement which conforms to principles of 
mental consistency, forces these principles before attention as 
selective factors which may in anticipation of the judgment 
of the event enable unreliable interpretations to be eliminated. 
Thus ways of thinking come to be rejected, not merely because 
they do not work in fact, but also because they do not work 
in thought. Ideas are submitted not only to the empirical, but 
also to the logical test, and ideational readjustment becomes 
self-conscious. 

The sense of consistency among ideas is at first far enough 
from scientific criticism. It is a mere feeling of harmony or 
its lack, that operates, as feeling everywhere does, selectively. 
We have here what we have called a logic of feeling. The 
principles of consistency are felt, but not clearly cognized. 
However, such feeling frequently suffices to forestall actual 
experimental resolution of inconsistencies. The clear con- 
sciousness of logical requirements arises, as does the conscious- 
ness of the ideas which logic enables us consistently to relate, 
because of the pressure of the need of readjustment, the preva- 
lence of error. Only through the development of rationality 
to take the place of mere intuition, or feehng of correctness, 
can the complicated and variable situations of human life be 
satisfactorily met. 

The procedure of perceptual as of all readjustment is one 
of experiment.^ Experimentation consists here in the passing 
of a certain interpretation before attention. But if the read- 
justment is to be a mental one, this interpretation must not 
wholly control action ; the movement that is provoked must 
be merely tentative ; and the mind must remain alert to note 
any development that may confound or confirm the sugges- 
tion that attention entertains. In pure trial and error learn- 
ing the experiment is an impulse. As we pass over to conscious 

^ Compare § 17. 



Learning by Trial and Error 207 



leaming. it becomes a mental M-pothesis to be tested more CK-ert and 

ideal' 
tests 



and more by an ideational rather than by an overt test. The * ^"° 



advance to the higher form of leaming means also that atten- 
tion, instead of being so much on the alert to note the external 
developments which experimental movements are bringing to 
pass, becomes more and more absorbed in the inner world of 
ideas from which it may expect to derive many if not most of 
its standard tests for truth. 

To resimie, the characteristic features of trial and error learn- Sunnnary 
ing are the actual experiment and the judgment of the event as 
indicated by feeHng. The characteristic features of conscious 
leaming are h}pothe3e5, or ideational experiments, and the 
test of the judgment of experience, as indicated by conformity 
to ideas held to be true. The link between leaming by trial 
and error and conscious leaming is found in jjerception. Per- 
ception is characterized by attention to the outward, alertness 
to the outcome of tentative acti\dty initiated by its sugges- 
tions. It submits its h>-potheses to a t^t partly of overt re- 
sults, partly of conformity to ideas. Its logic is one of habit 
and feeling. Yet. on the other hand, perception holds all im- 
pulses inhibited, at least partially, until its logic is satisfied. 
Its attitude is not quite that of reflective suspension of judg- 
ment, but rather that of alertness to many objective events that 
are felt to concern effective action. Such alertness is an idea- 
tional attitude that may be called the forerunner of critical re- 
flection. In perceptual readjustment the ideas of action are 
not free ideas, but are wedded to sensor.- cues. The transi- 
tion to conscious leaming involves the analysis of perception, 
the separation of sensory cue from interpretation, and the con- 
scious endeavor to estimate the reliabilit}- of the interpreta- 
tion, which now of coui^e is recognized as a mere idea. It 
further involves the discover}* of various relations among ideas. 
The reliable ones are separated and fixed in memor>% the un- 



2o8 Principles of Education 

reliable are eliminated. Lastly, the logical sense must appear, 
and there must be a clear grasp of logical principles by which 
the conformity of the plan of action to the mental standard 
of reliabihty may be tested. From felt we must advance to 
known consistency. 



I 



CHAPTER VIII 



CONSCIOUS LEARNING 



Section 26. Factors in conscious learning 



One cannot emphasize too much the fact that what we find 
in practice is not mere trial and error learning, on the one 
hand, and pure ideational readjustment, on the other, so much 
as it is a combination of the two. From one extreme, where 
the resources of learning are blind impulses and the process is 
controlled by mere feeling of results, to the other, where the 
resources are ideas and where deliberation is brought to a 
conclusion only when a suggestion is found that conforms con- 
sciously to the accepted criteria of judgment, we find all sorts 
of intermediate processes. To some of these nearly every 
case of human learning can be referred. Such learning is 
rarely without perceptual control, in which we have the begin- 
nings of ideational readjustment, and, on the other hand, it 
very seldom reaches pure reasoning. 

The phases of conscious learning may be roughly divided 
into perceptual, imaginative, and conceptual readjustment, 
the latter being in its perfected form reasoning. These forms 
are to be distinguished by the sort of material that makes up 
the resources in learning. On the other hand, the method of 
selection may be made a basis of distinguishing sorts of learn- 
ing. Here we find such phases as resolution of struggle of im- 
pulses through the outcome of the interplay of forces in the 
body stimulated by these impulses ; resolution by the control 
of attention through the perception of results, or by inner feel- 
p 209 



Gradual 
nature of 
the transi- 
tion from 
learning by 
trial and 
error to 
conscious 
learning 



Kinds of ex- 
perience 
involved in 
learning ; 
of selective 
processes 



2IO 



Principles of Education 



ings or attitudes that assert their sway ; resolution through 
conscious experimentation that aims to anticipate or test 
results ; conscious, rational dehberation. These are but a 
few of many forms, to be described later, through which judg- 
ment passes on the way to clearly conscious control over the 
process of ideational readjustment. It is to be noted that all 
these phases of learning cooperate in a great variety of com- 
binations. Imagination rarely works independently of per- 
ception, much less reasoning independently of imagination. 
So, too, the simpler phases of resolution are seldom entirely ab- 
sent, even when judgment assumes its most deUberate forms. 

The two factors of ideational readjustment, mental resource- 
fulness and judgment, are sufficiently distinct to be capable 
of varying independently. The mind, when it develops within 
itself both an action system upon which experimentation can 
be based, and a capacity for selection by which such experi- 
mentation can be settled, necessarily brings each advance 
to bear upon the other. However, it is quite possible for 
resourcefulness to outrun judgment, and with some it would 
seem that the judgment excels the fertility of the mind. In a 
general way, mental development begins with mental vari- 
abiHty. At first, this new material is subjected to the simpler 
methods of resolution and selection that have all along pre- 
vailed. Later on, new phases of judgment, made possible 
by the new sort of material which it is to control, appear. 

The precedence of resourcefulness to judgment is but an il- 
lustration of the general relation between variation and selec- 
tion throughout evolution. It would seem that this relation 
is necessary and inevitable. How can there be selection until 
there is something to select, something to eliminate? How 
can judgment appear until ideas have been created to be 
judged? One can understand how ideas might function 
through an appeal to lower types of selection, even though 



Conscious Learning 



211 



true judgment could scarcely be said to exist, but it seems 
impossible for judgment to outrun ideas. There can be no 
doubt that here we do have a general fact. However, it is 
also evident that in social intercourse the ideas may come from 
some and the judgment from others. Thus cooperation makes 
possible specialization in a talent that otherwise would lie in 
abeyance for lack of material to work upon. Some possess 
and cultivate a power that exercises itself largely in selecting 
and adapting the suggestions made by others. 

Both mental resourcefulness and judgment are capable of 
further analysis. Each involves a factor of content and one 
of attitude.^ From the point of view of content, resourceful- 
ness involves the experience from which can be constructed 
ideas of possible ways of meeting new emergencies, and judg- 
ment requires that we have standards of relative value that 
we can apply to these ideas in order to test their reliability as 
plans of action. The necessity of the attitude is seen in the 
fact that one may have much experience and few ideas. To 
convert the one into the other, the thinker must have a cer- 
tain power of calling up his resources, which may be called 
the attitude of originality. Without originality experience is 
capital that cannot be liquidated or applied to new uses. It is 
mere habit of thought that cannot be separated from its mooring 
in a context of experience and floated away to another situa- 
tion to take part in a novel service. The attitude depends 
partly on such an organization of experience as enables its 
recall in new situations, and partly upon an intellectual daring, 
a loosening of inhibitions, a feeling that stimulates to mental 
adventure. All these combine to enable the mind to range 
among its resources, converting what at first glance seem like 



Judgment 
may out- 
run fertil- 
ity of 
mind 



Resource- 
fulness as 
depende nt 
on experi- 
ence and 
the attitude 
of original- 
ity 



^The word "attitude" is used very much as by Professor Judd. Compare 
his Psychology, and his article on the "Doctrine of Attitudes," Journal of Phil. 
Psych, and Sc. Meth., Vol. V, No. 25. 



212 Principles of Education 

foreign and irrelevant lines of thought into the source of ideas 
that startle in the effectiveness of their application to the 
emergency in hand, 
udgment as Just as rcsourccfulness depends not only upon a content of 
^nTknowi- experience, but also upon an attitude of originaUty, by which 
this experience may be converted into ideas, so judgment is 
not merely a matter of a knowledge of the standards of reha- 
bihty and desirability, but also of an attitude that enables 
these standards to be put into effect. We may call this the 
logical or critical attitude. It is essentially a tendency toward 
mental caution, toward inhibition. We feel that we must 
"look before we leap," that no plan of action should be allowed 
to prevail until it has stood the test of judgment. One may 
have very good ideas as to what sort of suggestions are most 
iikely to prove wise in certain classes of emergencies, yet he 
may be so impulsive or so thoughtless that these ideas never 
get a proper chance to function . On the other hand, there are 
some in whom, as a result of nature or training or both, the 
critical, hesitating temper has grown so strong that decision 
becomes exceedingly difficult. 

It is important to recognize the reality of these attitudes 
apart from the materials with which they deal. In a sense, 
they are general in character, for, if they are natural or habitual 
to an individual, they, recur whenever a new emergency is 
faced or new ideas are proposed. The existence of such states 
of mind has been ignored by the Herbartians and questioned 
by many modern psychologists under the influence of the view 
that the phenomena of consciousness can all be reduced to 
definite ideas and their interrelations. Thus they deal with 
the attitude as merely the outcome of the content of mind, 
and hence as attached solely to the definite experiences in 
connection with which it arose. It is regarded as incapable 
of functioning apart from them, much less of varying inde- 



Conscious Learning 



213 



pendently. The content theory of mind will be discussed more 
fully later in connection with the chapter on Formal Disci- 
pline. For the present I wish to assume, what seems evident 
enough to analysis, that although the attitude and the content 
develop side by side, yet they are distinct. We are, indeed, 
incapable of being original unless we have some experience, 
or of being critical without something corresponding to a 
sense of standards ; yet originality is not commensurate with 
experience, nor mental caution with an awareness of the con- 
ditions with which sound judgment should conform. 

Indeed, in regard to the critical attitude, it seems that one 
may be cautious and hesitating without any clear notion of 
the definite reason for such action. One may even display 
this attitude where no such definite reason exists. We have 
only to feel that the situation is in some way new and strange 
and that well-estabHshed habits do not fit readily. Under these 
conditions an idea of action may be inhibited, not because we 
recognize its failure to conform to the conditions of success, but 
just because it is new and imtried as a solution of the emer- 
gency. We may even fail to recognize what the conditions 
of success are, but simply feel the presence of the unusual. 
In fact, the critical temper is primarily the outgrowth of fear 
and caution, and these feelings may well be regarded as ful- 
filling for mere perceptual readjustment the function that 
skepticism performs for reason. They inhibit action until 
further data are collected, or until the situation develops more 
fully. They are thus the condition for the accumulation of 
cognitive material to aid the mind in reaching a position that 
is capable of grasping and holding the attention. 

Just as the critical temper may outrun the sense of the con- 
ditions of decision, giving us a Hamlet, or may be easily swept 
away by the pressure of ideas that invoke to action, as some 
think to be the case with Roosevelt, so originality may be out 



The critical 
attitude as 
varying in- 
depend- 
ently of 
the knowl- 
edge of 
standards 



Originality 
as varying 
independ- 
ently of 
experience 



2 14 Principles of Education 

of balance with the experience upon which it draws. Some 
possess a vigor and daring of thought so out of proportion to 
their resources for thinking as to produce the impression of 
making a very Httle go a long way, or of being unwarrantably 
presumptuous. Others are so lacking in originality as to 
seem barren-minded although their hves may have been crowded 
with experience. The study of how better to become the mas- 
ter of our resources Professor James has very suggestively 
declared ^ to be one of the principal fields for appHed psy- 
chology. 

It may be thought that the view that the contents of tliink- 
ing can be separated into standards and plans needs defense 
quite as much as that which maintains the distinctness of the 
rational attitudes. In simpler forms of consciousness the ex- 
perience that comes up is habitual experience. It has stood 
the empirical test and become in a measure standardized. 
However, as we have seen, the evolution of greater sensitive- 
ness means the retention of that which has been less and less 
hammered in by repetition, and so selected out or standard- 
ized by mere practice. Thus ideas appear which need to be 
tested by their relation to other ideas that have already passed 
through the ordeal. The distinction between mere plans and 
standards is thus an inevitable consequence of the enrichment 
of the mind with material for effective ideational readjust- 
ment. The logical attitude, that develops into clearer con- 
sciousness with the multiplication of these resources, inevi- 
tabl}^ forces before attention the mechanism of its procedure. 
This procedure demands valuation of the contents of mind and 
a process of conscious judgment on the basis of such valu- 
ation. Hence standards are differentiated and consciously 
assigned their function in the mental process. 
We may, then, regard the evolution of conscious learning 
* President's Address, American Philosophical Association, December, 1906. 



Conscious Learning 215 

as essentially a matter of the development into greater per- Summary 
fection of these four factors. As the capacity to store ex- 
perience grows, the mind increases its action system. Per- 
ceptual interpretations are supplemented by images of the 
imagination, and these in turn by ideas of relation, or concepts. 
The images and concepts become arranged according to the 
feehng, and later according to the clear apprehension of rela- 
tive worth into standard and doubtful ideas. Doubtful 
ideas, when cast into the limbo of the rejected, are for the 
time being useless, but until then they are conjectures from 
whence ideational readjustment draws its nourishment. With 
the progress of conscious learning, the mind grows more and 
more conscious of the necessities of effective thinking. It 
comes to take more consciously the attitude of conjecture, 
of speculation, of invention. From simply waiting passively 
for such ideas as will to come to its aid, it dehberately goes out 
in search of them. It becomes consciously original. Simi- 
larly, the logical or critical attitude develops from the mere 
hesitation of mental timidity in the face of a new or as yet not 
comprehended situation into a clear sense of the function of 
reflectiveness and criticism, and into an attitude of unwill- 
ingness to lift its inhibitions upon action until the standards 
of judgment have been complied with. 

Section 27. The evolution of ideas 

The evolution of ideas we have characterized as a phase of ideas as an 
the expansion of the action system from which the resources the action*' 
of learning are derived. Experience and ideas constitute the system 
culmination of an extraordinary array of instrumentalities, — 
muscles and their attached structures, the nervous system 
with its powers of coordination, the artificial environment 
with its tools, shelter, clothing, capital, etc., and the social 



2l6 



Principles of Education 



environment bringing the forms of cooperation to the aid of 
achievement. To utihze these instrumentalities ideas are in 
some cases necessary, and nearly always of value. They 
everywhere exist to facilitate the process of readjustment. 
Their function is always to save flexibility in spite of the in- 
roads of habit, to secure resources against the devastations 
of selection. In this task they succeed so well that in many 
respects they more than make good the loss. The loss of power 
to readjust involved in acquiring certain habits is more than 
replaced by the adaptability furnished by the experience 
gained in the same process. In the brain certain associations 
that lead to action are atrophied and for the time eliminated, 
but in their place are established associations that lead to 
thought, to ideas. Thus it happens that, when we may again 
have need of experimental activity, these ideational associa- 
tions function. Instead of random diffused activity, we have 
thought which relates to the nature and results of such activ- 
ity. Ideation, through its own conclusions, either rouses 
again the corresponding movements or strengthens the in- 
hibitions by which they are held in abeyance. 

It is important to note that the process of selection, while 
in general antithetical to that of the development or the in- 
voking of resources, is, nevertheless, not only functionally 
dependent upon these processes, but also contributory to 
them. We have seen^ that the development of habits con- 
tributes to the power to learn such new adjustments as may 
have them for a basis. Whenever the new situation has in it 
something like the old, there the habits attached to the lat- 
ter may become a fruitful basis for experimentation toward 
readjustment. The value of habits is, therefore, to be esti- 
mated, not only on the basis of the efficiency gained from their 
use in the emergencies for which they are specifically adapted, 

^ Compare § 19. 



Conscious Learning 217 

but also by considering the extent to which they can be used in 
learning. Thus we may distinguish between fundamental 
habits and such as have few relations and are, therefore, with- 
out much value for readjustment. Now the habits that are 
fundamental may as a rule be characterized as abstract. They 
are associations of stimuli that constitute more or less minute 
factors in total concrete situations with responses that rarely 
or never appear except as integral parts of a coordinated move- 
ment. Such habits are a result of analysis and selection. The 
analysis ordinarily takes place when one appKes an old habit 
to a new situation. The result is some measure of separation 
of the elements of similarity. On the one hand, attention is 
enabled to concentrate upon the point of likeness between the 
two situations. On the other hand, there is effected at least 
a partial isolation of such fragment of the original habitual 
response as applies to the new case. The like factor in the 
stimulus and the like factor in the response are, under the pres- 
sure of experimental learning, forced to cHng together, and to 
become abstracted from other factors in the concrete situa- 
tions in which they appear. 

Such abstract habituation is merely the forerunner of ab- Abstraction 
stract thought. In both cases we have an association between >nadentai 

" to the cor- 

a cue and a response. The cue is either a sensation or an idea, rectbn of 
The response may be either a movement or a process of thought. fS^reac-^' 
Without such an association analysis and abstraction would tions 
be impossible. A new situation is felt to be like a famihar 
one. An accustomed reaction is in consequence made, with 
the result of partial failure. Experimentation saves such of 
the old response as is successful. Again this response is stimu- 
lated by a situation in some respects the same as the preced- 
ing ones, but in others different from them. Further analysis 
of the response is thus brought about. The result is that, 
not only are movements broken up into constituent factors, 



2l8 



Principles of Education 



discrimina- 
tion of 
critical 
stimuli 



but also stimuli are analyzed into such elements as constitute 
the appropriate motor cue to these reactions. To apply the 
response properly, it must be associated with the stimulus 
that is the proper signal for it. Hence this signal must be 
attended to in some way. 

It is evident that many of our fairly abstract habits are sug- 
gested by stimuH that are not so much consciously discrimi- 
nated as felt. However, such control is of necessity unreHable 
where we are shifting constantly from one concrete situation 
to another. To rely upon feeling is to be unable to determine 
ideationally the character of the situation. Hence only by 
actual experiment can the appropriateness of the response be 
tested. Thus with the growth of reflectiveness the cues to 
fundamental abstract habits are themselves abstracted and 
associated consciously to their proper responses. Cognitive 
consciousness here illustrates its universal function, — that 
of enabling an anticipative determination of the outcome of 
experimentation. 

The process of analysis and abstraction by which funda- 
mental habits or thought associations are singled out is evi- 
dently a selective process. In so far as these elements are 
material for readjustment, the process of selection favors the 
expansion of the action system, the resources for experimen- 
tation. Selection is not merely eliminative ; it favors enrich- 
ment, in so far as its products lend themselves to new 
combinations that would be impossible without them. An 
individual equipped with a store of such reliable habits of 
action and thought is enabled to achieve syntheses of skill 
or foresight immeasurably beyond the possibilities of one who 
depends on the concrete. 

But while the process of selection contributes to resource- 
fulness, it cannot operate unless it is provided with material. 
The analysis upon which the coordinations of skill are based 



Co7iscious Learning 



219 



is dependent upon a large equipment of muscles and a nerv- 
ous system capable of effecting the separation of large mass 
movements, the selective establishment of minuter associa- 
tions, and the recombination of these into elaborate syn- 
theses. So, too, in the evolution of ideas, each phase of analy- 
sis and abstraction springs from conflict and contrast, and this 
in turn is based upon a more sensitive memory, which masses 
the cognitive material from which the conflict arises. Thus 
both in mind and body the accumulation of resources precedes 
differentiation, and differentiation involves elimination and 
selection as a basis for analysis and abstraction. 

The two principles, first that new analyses are founded upon 
enlarged resources, and second, that, although a product of 
selection, the abstractions that result from these analyses ul- 
timately foster a gain in mental capital, are illustrated at 
each step in the evolution of ideas. Indeed, so important are 
these principles that the entire advance from perception to 
rational systems of thought seems to be fundamentally an 
illustration of them. Perceptual interpretation is an outgrowth 
of a memory sufficiently sensitive to retain a vague sense of 
several meanings that a given sensory cue may suggest. It is 
this conflict in interpretation that forces the specific nature of 
each upon consciousness. The rise of perception involves 
enough of consciousness of the novelty or of the ambiguity 
of the situations it concerns to provoke doubt and hesitancy 
and hence to stir up alertness. Perception itself necessitates 
enough clearly conscious interpretation to furnish a basis for 
experimentation that aims to discover, in the first instance, 
the nature of the stimulus, and only ultimately the proper re- 
sponse. As a cognitive process, its purpose is to settle a men- 
tal issue by mental data. Hence it experiments to get these 
data, trusting that they can be obtained in time to forestall 
serious results. We do not perceive those stimuli to which 



Resources 
necessary 
as a basis 
for selec- 
tion 



The evolu- 
tion of 
ideas de- 
pendent 
on (i) more 
sensitive 
memory: 
(2) selec- 
tive pro- 
cesses 
that assist 
memory 



220 



Principles of Education 



we invariably react in one regular way. Automatism reigns 
here. But when a stimulus means many things according to 
context, then it is necessary for cognition to sweep under its 
inspection a conscious representation of this context in order 
in any degree to anticipate the outcome of the event. 

In a preceding section ^ an attempt was made to indicate the 
function of perception, and the manner in which it combines 
ideational readjustment with control by the apprehension of 
results. Here the important consideration is that in its genesis 
and development perception is a process of sensing and later 
apprising certain significances in order that they may have 
their weight in determining the true nature of the situation. 
It is, therefore, founded on the memory that retains enough 
of the past to offer conflicting interpretations of certain stimuli, 
and thus provoke an attentive experimental attitude toward 
them. With the increase in the sensitiveness of memory, the 
conflict sharpens, and the data become more clearly differ- 
entiated from each other. This clearness promotes mental 
comparison, and thus favors a mental decision as to the exact 
character of the situation and the proper method of treating it. 
Thus the development of perception from vague interpreta- 
tions to the clear apprehension of the nature of the things per- 
ceived is a result of the expansion of mental resources that 
springs from an increase in the sensitiveness of memory. 

On the other hand, the interpretations of perception are for 
the most part such as have been repeated many times, and so 
attached to their sensory cues by the same process through 
which habits are formed. They are selected interpretations, 
fragmentary ghmpses of the things to which they refer. They 
give just that which is significant in the determination of the 
proper reaction ; just what can be utilized in provoking hesi- 
tancy, alertness, experimentation, or in furthering a mental 

^§25- 



Conscious Learning 221 

decision as to the classification of the thing which enables 
successful treatment of it. The clear apprehension of these in- 
terpretations is a consequence not only of the grip of memory, 
but also of concentration of attention, of discrimination, of 
selection. Perceptual interpretation may be ranked among the 
unqualified abstractions. Moreover, it is this abstract char- 
acter that enables it to be seized with sufficient distinctness and 
associated persistently enough with its sensory cue to be raised 
to the level of a genuine idea. Thus the gradual hfting of what 
is at first a mere vague awareness into clear consciousness is a 
result of the synthetic activity of memory and the analytic ac- 
tivity of selective attention. Each agency fosters the work 
of the other. Saving makes possible selection, and only the 
selected is saved. Only by selection is the interpretation 
raised into that conscious clarity which enables it to enter 
into mental comparisons and so to prove itself of sufficient use 
to be worthy of being saved. 

It is not likely that anything resembling clear-cut perception ciear-cut per- 
of the nature of things appears until free images have come ception de- 

'^ irxr o pendent on 

into consciousness. So long as mental doubt is to be settled imagina- 
by an appeal to new perception, corroborating some and reject- the analysis 
ing others of the interpretations suggested for the situation, ^^ ^^^^^ 

. . . . possible 

SO long the logic of this process remains a logic of felt coherence, 
and it is unnecessary for clearly defined ideas such as can be 
consciously compared to appear. The perceptual condition of 
mind is not one of clearly defined awareness of the nature of 
objects, but rather one of vague feelings of a variety of motor 
cues which must be held at the threshold of attention until that 
perception appears which shall by felt reenforcement lift one 
of these cues into the control of attention. When, however, 
free images have come to play a considerable part in the life 
of consciousness, perception, doubtless, is for the first time able, 
by comparison with these images and the reconstitution of its 



222 



Principles of Education 



Imagination 
as based 
on more 
sensitive 
memory 



interpretations under their influence, to attain the sharpness 
of conscious definition that characterizes the perception of 
man. Thus distinctness comes into the mental life because of 
the accumulation of material by which conflict, contrast, and 
definition are made possible. In turn, this definition, this 
clearness that results from contrast and analysis, is itself the 
mark that characterizes material now gripped by the mind in 
such a form as to constitute a genuine resource for the read- 
justments of consciousness. 

Imagination is born in the freeing of the perceptual inter- 
pretation from its dependence upon sensation. The mind be- 
gins to have ideas not fused directly with impressions coming 
from the sense organs, but only indirectly suggested by them. 
At first there is no conscious separation of perception from 
image. The mind is not aware that some of the ideas are of 
things actually present to sense, while others lack this quality. 
This distinction between the perception and the image is a 
phase of the development of judgment, and will be dealt with 
later. Here we may note that images are a product of a more 
sensitive memory than is displayed in perceptual interpreta- 
tion, and that this memory fills the mind with other materials 
than those that are fused with sensation. The uncertainty of 
a doubtful interpretation, which is characteristic of perceptive 
consciousness, is supplemented by mind wandering among 
ideas more or less clearly cognitive of these interpretations and 
their conditions and results. Instead of waiting for further 
perception to settle the issue raised by doubtful sensory cues, 
the mind rushes forward to anticipations based on past expe- 
rience, that may, when they are compared, either make possible 
a decisive interpretation of the situation without further ex- 
perimental perception, or at least hasten and abridge this 
process. 

But while imagination is a result of sensitive memory, it 



Conscious Learning 



223 



fails to give, at any rate in its simpler forms, anything like a 
complete representation of the sense qualities of any object 
to which it refers. So far from being a literal recall of past 
experience, reproductive imagination gives only a partial dis- 
torted representation. This character is due to several causes. 
The perceptions from which the images are derived are them- 
selves partial and more or less inaccurate. The image simply 
exaggerates the peculiarities of its antecedent. Moreover, its 
variations may be due in part to the influence of the context 
of ideas and perceptions in which it is recalled. Association 
with these brings about both abstraction and distortion of the 
original mental content, which imagination is said to reproduce. 
Again, the physiological processes underlying imagination may 
be subject to change because of modified vital conditions, such 
as nutrition, disease, etc. In fact, what is known as reproduc- 
tive imagination is often quite as much a variant from its orig- 
inal as though it were what we call constructive or creative 
imagination.^ 

The process of distortion involved in reproductive imagina- 
tion, so far from being a mere falling away from the accuracy 
and clearness of perception, is in point of fact a very important 
condition of greater clearness and accuracy, not only in ideas, 
but also in perceptions themselves. Images provoke action, 
and, if they are inaccurate, the results are likely to be unex- 
pected. In that event, the defectiveness of the images is likely 
to be not only felt, but also apprehended. The correction of 
error by thought comparisons means that the ideas are not 
merely felt to be wrong, but known to be wrong in specific 
respects. Thus the image gains in accuracy and clearness. 
This gain is reflected into perception, which acquires a new 
definiteness, correctness, and cognitive quality. The inter- 
pretations that in their original fusion with sensation were 
^ Compare Ribot, Essay on the Creative Imagination. 



The image a 
variant 
from the 
original 
perception 



Such varia- 
tion pro- 
ductive of 
further dis- 
crimination 
and sharp- 
ening of 
memory 



224 



Principles of Education 



Resultant 
enrichment 
of imagina- 
tion and 
memory 



Types of im- 
agination 
differenti- 
ated by 
judgment 



vague and unanalyzed become clear-cut and ideational in qual- 
ity. Thus analysis, although it seems based on the inaccuracies 
of memory in its work of literal reproduction, results ultimately 
in a great gain in the clearness and accuracy of what is remem- 
bered. 

In such fashion the image, in spite of its inaccuracies, or 
perhaps because of them, constitutes an experiment through 
which we learn to apprehend clearly the truth. Because the 
suggestions of imagination are merely conjectures,^ and do 
not always or even usually turn out safe guides to action, a 
process of reconstruction is set up, which results in a definition 
of all the contents of consciousness, with an extraordinary 
coincident gain in cognitive quality. Perception acquires a 
background. The sensations that operate as its suggestions 
become overshadowed by the definitely apprehended meanings 
that cluster about them. To see a thing means now to have 
far clearer apprehension of its visual quaUty than the eye 
unaided by imagination is capable of giving. Not only this, 
but perception suffused with imagination gains a background 
of a variety of sense qualities and meanings, each the result of 
earlier analysis under the pressure of experimentation. With 
this background a perception becomes in a true sense the per- 
ception of a thing; that is, an object with many qualities and 
relationships and significant for action in a great variety of 
contingencies. 

The distinction between different types of imagination is a 
result of a logical process of evaluation. Mere images are 
tested, clarified, and corrected. This process of correction is a 
phase of the evolution of judgment. With the development of 
this power one begins to distinguish images the sources and the 
correctness of which are as yet undetermined from those known 

* Professor Baldwin discusses this thought experimentation and its results in 
a very minute way in Thought and Things. 



Conscious Learning 



225 



to represent accurately things as they are, have been, or will 
be. Further analysis sets apart images known to reproduce 
the past experiences of the self, and so to constitute memories 
in the narrower sense of that term. Images known not to 
represent facts are further classified according to whether they 
represent the possible or the probable, or, perhaps, are the utter 
fiction of mere fancy. All these distinctions and many more 
are the result of judgment operative upon the image. In itself, 
apart from its reliability and use, the image remains a mere 
variant of perception cut loose from dependence upon sensation. 
Imagination enlarges the resources of thinking by fostering 
a tendency toward variation, by clarifying the cognitive states 
through the mental comparisons that it makes not only possible 
but necessary, and by bringing about a reconstruction of per- 
ception, enhancing the cognitive quality of its interpretations, 
and enabling an organization of masses of content about the 
unity of the thing perceived. This work of reconstructing 
experience into the fullness and the accuracy of a truthful 
account of reality is enormously aided by the development of 
the sense of relationship into distinct existence as conception. 
Perception and imagination contain associations, but in such 
forms of thought these associations are not made the special 
object of distinguishing consciousness. They are merely felt. 
Thus, while they rule the course of thought as they do the mech- 
anism of habit, their presence is not cognised, and so the reli- 
ability of their control is not criticised. When once these 
relationships have been lifted into consciousness, they constitute 
an addition to the resources of thinking, not only because they 
are a new phase of consciousness, in many respects more val- 
uable in controlling action than either perceptions or images, 
but also for the reason that they are a tremendous engine for 
reconstructing perceptions and images into richer, more reliable, 
and more available materials for ideation. 

Q 



Conception 
an aid to 
the recon- 
struction 
and en- 
richment 
of experi- 
ence 



226 



Principles of Education 



Conception 
a revela- 
tion of the 
dynamics 
of con- 
sciousness. 



Relation- 
ships dis- 
tinguished 
into psy- 
chological 
and logical 



As with all advances in the realm of ideas, the consciousness 
of relations is made possible because of more sensitive memory. 
The materials that enter into consciousness become through 
this agency clearly enough defined for their complicated group- 
ings to be taken into account. We note their coexistences and 
their sequences, their likenesses and differences, because 
we can remember well enough to recall the antecedents 
after we have experienced the consequents. These group- 
ings govern the progress of thought, and hence they are 
determinative of the action dependent on the outcome of 
this progress. If the associations are reliable, action founded 
on them will prove successful. False associations bring failure. 
The mind, experimenting with the effects of their control, be- 
comes aware of their existence and significance by realizing 
the bad consequences that may spring from them when they 
are unreliable. Thus we are enabled not only to correct the 
erroneous grouping of ideas and the corresponding habit of 
action, but also to add to our stock of ideas the notion of the 
specific associations that are at fault and those that are correct. 
The dynamics of consciousness is revealed to the mind that is 
governed by it, and such self-consciousness is the parent of 
enlarged power over the processes to which it refers. 

The concepts of the mind may be classified in a great variety 
of ways. We have abstract and concrete, class and individual 
concepts. We have those fundamental concepts that are 
called the categories of logic, and may be contrasted with the 
concepts of the classes and things that are ranged under them. 
For our purpose it may prove most fruitful to divide concepts 
into those of psychological and those of logical relationships. 
Psychological relationship is the dynamic relationship that 
actually governs the course of ideas in the mind of an individ- 
ual. It includes the relationships of habit, of similarity, or of 
any other sort, provided these exert a controlling influence 



Conscioics Learning 



227 



upon the process of thinking. Logical relationship is any 
relationship that may be detected among objects (or the corre- 
sponding ideas) by a comparing mind. The logical relation- 
ships are indefinite in number. They include likeness, dif- 
ference, and all the relationships of quahty, number and all 
the relationships of quantity, the relationships of dependence 
and interdependence, the relationships of thought to reality. 
In short, there is no relationship that may not be made the 
object of comparing intelligence. Hence the logical relation- 
ships include the psychological ones, for thought may appre- 
hend the principles that govern its course. Endowed with a 
retentiveness that enables it to preserve some notion of the 
experiences that are drifting into the past, it saves itself from 
mere submergence in the present moment. It hfts a section 
of its own experience before its attention. It reflects upon its 
own procedure, and in so doing the psychological relationships 
are made the object of consciousness. They become logical. 

On the other hand, the important question arises. Can the 
logical relationships become psychological? Can the course 
of thought be influenced by all the various interconnections 
that a reflective consciousness discovers to exist among objects, 
and so in some sense among the ideas that represent them. 
Professor James declares that in so far as the order of conscious- 
ness is determined, not by the order in which the sense impres- 
sions appear, but by some inner principle of association, the 
sole controlling factor is habit. ^ Among the principles of inter- 
connection worked out by the English Associationists he admits 
only one, that of association by contiguity in time, as having 
any real domination over psychological processes. 

At the outset of the discussion of this issue, it may be well 
to recognize the fact that the possibility of ideational read- 
justment rests on the capacity of logical relationships to dis- 
^ Principles of Psychology, Vol. I, Ch. XIV. 



Psychological 
relation- 
ships can 
be made 
logical 



Can logical 
relation- 
ships be- 
come psy- 
chological ? 



228 



Principles of Education 



integrate and reorganize thought and so to substitute their 
order for the mere successions and coexistences of habit. If 
habits of thought cannot thus be reconstructed, then cognitive 
consciousness is left without a function. It is a mere useless 
appendage, of no assistance to feeling and impulse in the process 
of learning. All learning remains mere learning by trial and 
error. Ideational experimentation and selection depends on 
the abihty to break away to some extent from habit, both as 
regards the mental resources and the judgment as to their 
availability. It would seem, therefore, that in assuming con- 
scious learning to be a fact, one of necessity is involved in the 
belief that the logical relationship, which it is the function of 
mental activity to bring more and more clearly to the front, 
should become incorporated in the mechanism by which the 
attention is seized and, in consequence, the progress of thought 
and action determined. 

Professor James admits something of the same sort when he 
discusses what he calls partial recall. Of the total context 
of thought c.t any moment, one element, he affirms, may pre- 
dominate over others in suggesting power. Thus the mere 
mechanical agencies of habit are replaced by preferences, 
interests that seem to spring from the mind itself. This pref- 
erential activity becomes operative upon the material that the 
dynamic associations of consciousness have caused to appear 
in such a context that mental comparison of their relationships 
becomes possible. Habit drags many things before attention. 
Judgment enters in to arrange them, to evaluate them, and to 
assign to each its relative value in determining the further 
course of thought. The relations that govern judgment, 
and that are by it brought to the front, are logical relation- 
ships. Once fixed by attention, they become active forces, 
undermining old habits of thought if they be illogical, and 
replacing them by new ones. Thus they become what we have 



Conscious Learnhtg 



229 



called psychological or dynamic relationships. What the 
mechanism of habit brings into the mind, the logical activity 
of thought passes in review. Only that which survives this 
selective process can continue as effective habit. The psy- 
chological associations determine what resources shall through 
suggestion be called into the mind. The logical associations 
determine which of these resources are fitly called. The rejec- 
tion of any tends to eliminate the association by which it was 
suggested. Hence the only associations that can remain are 
those that stand the test of logic. Through their selective 
activity the logical associations make sure that the psycholog- 
ical associations shall correspond to themselves. 

It may be objected that if we define logical relationship as Approved 
any relationship apprehended to exist between objects, it in- 
cludes both relations of coherence and those of incoherence. 
It is the business of judgment to banish the latter out of con- 
sciousness and not to install them in control. Hence not all 
logical relationships, but only those that are valid, are con- 
verted by ideation into psychological relationships. This view 
is undoubtedly true, and it is evident that we have here an 
ambiguous use of the word "logical." We mean by it something 
contrasted with the non-logical, i.e. that which is not made 
the object of attentive consciousness. Again we may contrast 
the logical with the illogical, or that which reflection carmot 
approve or abide. To avoid possible misunderstanding, it 
may be well to say that only such apprehended relationships as 
are logical in the sense of being approved by judgment can as 
a result of reflection be made to eliminate or modify earlier 
habits of thought. 

The awareness of relationships as distinct from the things 
related, or conception, is thus a tremendous force for the reor- 
ganization of the associations among ideas. These regroup- 
ings mean new comparisons, new analyses. Moreover, each 



logical 
relation- 
ships alone 
possessed 
of recon- 
structing 
power over 
habit 



230 



Principles of Education 



The concept 
as the ma- 
terial from 
which effec- 
tive mental 
creations 
are con- 
structed 



Conception 
as strength- 
ening mem- 
ory: (i) by 
escaping 
exceptions ; 
(2) by con- 
structing 
thought 
systems 



analysis means the distinguishing not of an isolated but of a 
relating factor, a concept. The concept is singled out because 
of its apparent validity, universality, and fundamental char- 
acter. It represents an association that claims logical coher- 
ence and that survives for a time the verifying test of repeated 
experiences. It is abstracted because it occurs in many con- 
texts and is a point of stability in all. This universality is 
correlated closely with the quality of being fundamental, 
or that from which many things can be derived. The analysis 
of a mass of concrete experiences into detailed relationships 
means reducing them to forms which can be used in the great- 
est variety of new combinations because they are sound, co- 
herent, and fundamental. The greater the variety of colors 
and color properties an artist has learned to distinguish, the 
greater his resources in the elaboration of new effects. The 
greater the knowledge of mechanical laws and devices pos- 
sessed by an inventor, the richer the suggestions that rise in his 
mind when a new mechanical problem is presented to him to 
solve. So, too, the brilliancy and originality of a philosophical 
system rests on the analysis of experience into philosophical 
concepts, which can then be woven together into new syn- 
theses. As Hegel contends, new systems are always compro- 
mises, but compromises that are truly synthetic and, therefore, 
original. If a writer would increase his power of invention in 
regard to personality, it is necessary that he should begin by 
analyzing the characters that he meets. 

Conception further enlarges resources by strengthening the 
memory upon which it itself is founded. Recall depends upon 
what we have called psychological associations. We have 
seen that reflection destroys such of those as cannot meet its 
logical tests, thus reconstructing the dynamic groupings of 
consciousness. But these reconstructed coherent associa- 
tions are far more powerful agents of recall than the associa- 



Conscious Learning 231 

tions of mere habit. Logical memory outstrips in effective- 
ness that which is merely mechanical. Its associative links 
are not constantly attacked and undermined by critical 
thought. On the contrary, they are constantly being strength- 
ened by use in other connections. Moreover, they are coherent 
with other associations. They join with them in the organi- 
zation of systems of thought where each item strengthens the 
grip of mem_ory on all the rest, as in a well-built arch the weight 
of each stone strengthens the stability of the whole structure. 
To change the figure, we may compare such systems of thought 
to great buildings held together by steel frames. As the 
strength of such edifices is dependent upon the strength of the 
frame and the manner in which it binds the structure together, 
so the grip of memory upon a thought is dependent upon the 
clearness and coherence of the concepts by which this is 
organized. 

The notion of a self with a consistent history, involving illustration 
physical appearance, habitat, occupation, family, character, ce'fofseiT 
and so fitting in at every angle, not only to other facts of the 
self but also to those of the world outside, is an example of such 
a thought system. So strong a grip does it possess upon the 
details which it organizes that by its logic it can often supply 
any gap that the memory of habit may be unable to fill. In- 
deed, the memory of a reflective consciousness consists largely 
of things that it knows must have happened or must be so. As 
the child grows to maturity this sort of memory grows stronger, 
and, in consequence, memory in general increases in power 
in spite of a probable loss in mere mechanical power to retain. 

The organizing and reconstructive power that springs from Language 
ideas of relations receives remarkable illustration when these trativ^of 
ideas are associated with words. The topic of language will the values 
be treated in a special chapter. Here, however, it may be noted tion"^'^^^ 
that words are of enormous assistance in enabling us to single 



232 Principles of Education 

out the relations that it is of importance for us to consider and 
to retain. Moreover, through recombinations of the elements 
thus distinguished, it becomes possible for us to accumulate 
an enormous fund of new experience from others. Our re- 
sources are thus increased by the experience of society. The 
memory of the individual is supplemented by the memory of 
the race. Written language, by recording an account of indi- 
vidual experiences as they take place, preserves an accurate 
description of an immense amount of material that would 
otherwise be lost or distorted. Thus history and science 
become possible, the words together with the relations they 
express drawing together in one enormous system of available 
material practically all of the significant experience of the race. 
The "silent The physiological basis of these ideas of relation is to be 
areas" as f^^j^^j jj^ what are called the association areas of the brain. 

the organs 

of concep- Thcsc occupy about two thirds of the cortex of the hemispheres, 
^'°^ and constitute what have been called the "silent areas." 

Thus the larger part of that portion of the brain which is cor- 
related with consciousness is devoted to the formation of con- 
nections. These connections go not singly but rather in groups, 
giving systems of thought and coordinations of movement. 
However, the analysis and isolation of the elemental associa- 
tions is necessary, if one is to reorganize them readily. More- 
over, such ready reorganization means, as we have seen, cog- 
nition of the factors involved. Hence the silent areas must 
concern themselves not only in associating, but also in think- 
ing about associations; that is, in conception. The forma- 
tion and use of ideas of relation may, therefore, not inappro- 
priately be called the principal function of the human brain. 
Summar>' To recapitulate, the evolution of ideas sums itself up in the 

three phases of perceptual interpretation, imagination, and 
ideas of relation, or concepts. In this expansion of power 
two factors are everywhere in evidence ; first, increase in sen- 



Conscious Learnijig 233 

sitiveness of memory, in sheer power to retain and recall ; 
second, cognitive selection, which in the field of perception 
and imagination is commonly called discrimination, and in 
that of conception, analysis and abstraction. As memory 
grows stronger, the mind is more and more apt to have conflict- 
ing impulses or interpretations in response to the suggestions 
of sense. Herein lies the condition of perception. The idea- 
tional selection of the proper one among these conflicting 
elements means at first merely the corroborating or eliminat- 
ing effect of further experimental perceptions. This process 
is brought to greater perfection as the interpretations with 
which it deals become more sharply discriminated. The clear 
awareness of the perceptual elements is forced upon us because 
of the necessity of discriminating such of them as are critical 
in determining the reactions that may be used in new situations 
or such data as serve in a variety of emergencies to identify 
various specific factors, the proper treatment of each of which 
is known. To recognize, to classify, to diagnose, one must 
have a cognitive account of defining characteristics, and the 
clearer this account, the more effective it is in recognition. 
But this cognitive account is a selected, a discriminated one. 
It is saved from confusion by being separated from the mass 
of vague interpretations with which it is at first associated. 
Its practical value as a guide for action leads it to be differen- 
tiated by an act of attention, and this separation raises it into 
clearer consciousness than before. 

Little by little such of the various interpretations of sensa- 
tion as need to be used in recognition are subjected to this 
process of clarification through selective discrimination. This 
work is especially favored by the rise of imagination. The 
free image is a result both of memory which holds many things 
in mind besides the interpretation of the sensations of the mo- 
ment, and also of a fairly clear cognition of this free material. 



234 Principles of Education 

Since many clear-cut and conflicting images cannot be fused 
with present sensation, they must needs be apprehended as 
free ideas. But the accumulation of imaginative material 
means more opportunity for ideational conflicts and selections, 
and so further sharpness of contrast among ideas, further 
classification of cognitive material. This enhanced distinct- 
ness in images reacts upon the perceptive states, substituting 
for vague interpretations a clear cognitive apprehension of 
things and their qualities. Red is never so red as when the 
image comes to the support of the sensation. Imagination 
reconstructs perception ; selective discrimination sharpens 
and so reconstructs both ; and memory furnishes the materials 
upon which selective discrimination works. 

As the materials of imagination become richer in quantity 
and clearness, comparison is able to do more than simply to 
cognize contrasted sense quality. The relations of these sense 
qualities become sufficiently in evidence to be distinguished. 
One remembers well enough to compare comparisons and to 
apprehend likeness of relationship where there is unlikeness 
of content related, or unlikeness of relationship where content 
remains the same. These relationships are abstracted and 
compared with each other. They are evaluated, and such as 
stand well the test operate to reorganize selectively the psy- 
chological connections that govern the course of thought. 
Reflection, working upon materials brought before it by the 
dynamic force of habit, discovers logical principles that com- 
pel such habits of thought as fail to meet their requirements 
to disappear. Thus the course of thought is reconstructed ac- 
cording to logical principles, — principles that are reiterated, 
supplemented, and interconnected until they constitute a 
grip upon their material that is well-nigh inexorable. The 
memory of habit is enormously strengthened. Indeed, where 
habitual memory fails, we are able to reconstruct our pasts, 



Conscious Learning 235 

filling our memories with what we know must have taken place. 
Language, oral and written, comes to our assistance, and the 
systems of thought which through the binding and reconstruct- 
ing force of conception the individual has been able to build 
up in his own peculiar experience are enlarged to include the 
experience of the race. The ideational resources of the indi- 
vidual come to correspond to those of society. 

Section 28. The evolution of judgment 

The evolution of judgment, as distinguished from that of Preliminary 
ideas, is essentially a matter of becoming conscious of the thfSctors 
process of ideational readjustment, with a consequent addition in judg- 
to its effectiveness. One comes to realize what thinking is and 
means, and as a result thinks better. To become rational many 
factors and processes must be made the subject of attention. 
As we have seen, one must make the distinction between mere 
plans of action and the standards to which these must be sub- 
mitted. The standards themselves must be ranged in the 
order of their relative importance, and the principles by which 
they are brought to bear upon plans exploited. Again, the 
reasoning attitudes must be brought before the focus of atten- 
tion. One must realize the importance of experimentation 
both in thought and action, if one is to get adequate material 
upon which judgment may be exercised. One must become 
critical; that is, aware of the importance of caution and delib- 
eration in making up one's mind. 

The process of ideational readjustment may be said to take ideational 
two forms: First, ideas may inhibit or reenforce each other; mentr(i) 
second, they may combine with and modify each other, by inhibi- 

. tion or re- 

Ideas are inhibited by being banished from the attention, very enforce- 
much as impulses are eliminated when their results are unsatis- ™ent of 

^ ^ impulses ; 

factory. The perception or the idea of a disagreeable conse- 



236 



Principles of Education 



(2) by syn- 
thesis of 
impulses 



Conflict of 
physical 
impulses 
the fore- 
runner of 
ideational 
struggle 



quence that may be supposed to follow the carrying out of a 
certain idea will tend to rob it of motive force ; or, what is 
the same thing, to drive it from attention. Similarly, when 
the perceived or thought consequence is agreeable, the sug- 
gesting idea will be confirmed in the possession of attention, 
at any rate until it initiates action, and further developments 
make necessary new thought and action. If one were enter- 
taining the thought of calling upon a friend, the perception 
that he was passing along the street might inhibit or corrob- 
orate one's purpose according to whether the friend were going 
toward or away from his home. Again, the perception that 
his friend was going away from home might not destroy the 
purpose of meeting him, but merely modify the method of 
realizing it. Instead of going to the friend's home, one might 
go to the place whither he is supposed to be bound. Here we 
would have an illustration of the synthesis of mental data, 
with a corresponding coordination of movements. Both forms 
of ideational readjustment are constantly illustrated in per- 
ceptual control. Moreover, the higher mental processes may 
be analyzed into similar inhibitions, reenforcements, or corre- 
lations. The idea of a new related datum may affect a pur- 
pose quite as much as the perception of a new fact. One's 
purpose to call on a friend will persist, disappear, or be modi- 
fied by the thought of the possible or probable movements of 
the friend during the day. 

The forerunner of ideational resolution or readjustment is 
to be found in the conflicts and reenforcements of many mus- 
cular movements set in motion simultaneously. We have 
seen that the primary condition of readjustment is inhibition 
of some movements in order that others may be experimented 
with. Such inhibition may, however, be only partial, and 
the new movements may not be suffered to usurp absolutely 
the control of the body. Partial inhibition means the possi- 



Conscious Learning 



237 



by the feel- 
ing of re- 
sults to 
control by 
the antici- 
pation of 
these 



bility of many conflicting impulses. The arm and hand of Cran- 
mer, thrust into the flames in order that it may be consumed 
before the rest of his body, is not mildly compliant to the will 
of the sufferer. It is tense with the conflict of muscles which 
are commanded by various stimuli to do very different things. 
Such movements may, however, tend not to destroy each other 
but to combine, as in the coordinations of balancing, walking, rid- 
ing a bicycle, etc. Here many movements are aroused and enter 
into interplay, with the result that none is ultimately banished, 
but an adjustment is reached in which each performs a service. 

The final outcome of such intramuscular struggle is, of course. From control 
under the control of the feeling and the apprehension of results. 
Where cognition has little material by which a suitable synthe- 
sis of movements can be worked out beforehand, the various 
impulses are not very effectively inhibited, but rather are per- 
mitted to work out their own destiny in the overt results. 
When, however, ideas become more in evidence, the progress 
of impulses into movement tends more and more to be checked. 
These impulses flow into ideas, which struggle toward a read- 
justment that may constitute a basis for a fairly effective coor- 
dination of movement. Thus, as blind experimentation be- 
comes replaced more and more by ideational experimentation, 
specific stimuli become in new situations less and less likely to 
result in immediate movements. One ceases to be impulsive, 
and grows thoughtful, deHberate, at any rate when one is deal- 
ing with an emergency. However, the study of involuntary 
movements shows that we probably never reach a state in 
which impulses get no immediate expression in movements. 
The tendency toward speech as we carry on a train of thought 
is evidence of the strength of the primal association between 
muscles and any disturbance in the nervous system. 

We have already treated perceptual control as involving 
a transition from the selection of impulses by feeling of 



238 



Principles of Education 



Alertness as 
indicative 
of the be- 
ginning of 
ideational 
control 



Internal 
factors af- 
fecting the 
result of 
the strug- 
gle of in- 
terpreta- 
tions 



results to selection by cognitive anticipation of these. The 
characteristics of the perceptual state may be summed up as 
follows: Inliibition of impulses combines with clearer cogni- 
tion to bring about a mental conflict of interpretations, a sense 
of ambiguity or uncertainty concerning the nature of the sit- 
uation and the proper response. The outcome of this is alert- 
ness, which is directed toward any data that may clear up the 
ambiguity. Such data may come from the development of 
the situation, the mere progress of events, while the perceiving 
animal remains observant, but otherwise passive. They may, 
however, be sought by experimental movements, the aim of 
which is to obtain material for an ideational resolution of the 
ambiguities involved. The data thus gathered together inter- 
act in the ways just described. The suggestions that spring 
from them corroborate each other, or render each other unten- 
able, or, perhaps, combine to suggest an interpretation in 
which the presence of each is recognizable. 

In addition to the data furnished by the external senses, 
other factors springing from within the organism cooperate to 
determine the outcome of the mental process we are consider- 
ing. Temperament, feeling, habit, all tend to sway the inter- 
pretation in the directions that they favor. A hungry animal 
would prefer for a doubtful case the interpretation, food, 
rather than any other. An animal timid, either from disposi- 
tion or from temporary condition, will incline toward an inter- 
pretation that smacks of danger. After the external senses 
have given all the evidence that one can expect from them, 
there still remains in many cases several possible interpreta- 
tions for an object, each of which fits one of a number of 
possible internal conditions of the perceiving organism. 
What sort of a being a man is to a wolf depends very much 
on the way the wolf feels at the time, or what sort of a wolf 
it may chance to be. 



Conscious Learning 



239 



The struggle among interpretations in perception is essen- 
tially a struggle for the control of attention. The attention 
cannot concentrate except by eliminating all save coherent 
interpretations. The correlation of data that perception 
seeks is a felt coherence, not a distinctly apprehended ^ 

logic is therefore the logic of feeling and habit. T]ie jeeiing 
involved is that third type which we have described ' as ac- 
companying the struggle of impulses or ideas. So lo^'^ 'is th.: 
conflict remains, one feels uncomfortable. Pleasure sprmgs 
from reconciliation, from concentration. The feeling of co- 
herence is partly a toleration of interpretations that have 
habitually gone together without misdirecting action in appre- 
ciable ways, partly a dawning sense of logical coherence that 
may replace or corroborate the synthesis of habit. The feeling 
of logical coherence cannot get an opportunity to display 
much if any influence on the course of thought unless the 
paths of habit are checked. It is in the ideation which follows 
such a check that the vague sense of logical relationship which 
we have called the logic of feeling gets a chance to disintegrate 
and reconstruct the associations of habit. 

We are now in a position to distinguish sharply three lines 
along which judgment develops. They are as follows : (i) 
the growth of the attitude of mental experimentation ; (2) the 
growth of evaluated and evaluating thought material ; (3) the 
growth of the critical attitude. The attitude of mental ex- 
perimentation is that which we have described as originality. 
It is the attitude which throws one into the position of accu- 
mulating material for ideational readjustment. The first 
form of such experimental activity we have described as re- 
lated to perception, although it extends to reasoning as well. 
It is activity roused in doubtful or new situations, and directed 
toward obtaining new sense data by which the nature of the 

^ Compare § 24. 



The control 
of atten- 
tion by the 
logic of 
habit and 
fppi;n<r 



Three factors 
in the 
growth of 
judgment, 
(i) Growth 
of mental 
experimen- 
tation. Its 
relation to 
originality. 
The search 
for new 
sense data 



240 Principles of Education 



W 



situation and the proper response may be discovered. One 
moves about, thus gaining a different point of view. A variety 
of senses are brought to bear upon the situation. One may 
seek the point of view of others as indicated by their actions. 
lri(iec(i, Uie &rst resort of the socially dependent being is to 
the in,» srpret itions of authoritative companions. 

Such experimentation becomes supplemented by the activity 
of irna^b.ati 1 and reason. These powers surround the appre- 
hension of the situation by a multitude of ideas that are di- 
vorced from present sensations and may be only remotely 
associated therewith. The interrelations of such material 
enable one to arrive at results which reflect upon the present 
situation such meaning as to enable a decision about the proper 
mode of treating it. The attitude that summons forth such 
material is just as truly an experimental one as is that which 
stimulates the search for new sense data. Indeed, the two 
attitudes ordinarily combine. One thinks out reflectively 
such consequences of a certain interpretation as may be tested 1 1 
by critical observations of the senses. My friend whom I 
wish to interview is found to be away from home. I wonder 
where he has gone, and call up among others the conjecture 1 1 
that he is bound for a certain railroad station. This idea 
satisfies my sense of coherence. I recall further that my 
friend's office hes on the way to the station, and that he is likely 
to drop in there as he passes. It then occurs to me that I 
may catch him there by telephoning. This I do, and thus 
resort to a sensory test to verify or overthrow the conclusions 
of mere thought. 
Relation of jj^g attitude that favors the resort to new sensations or 

originality 

to cogni- ideas in the endeavor to experiment toward a solution of an 

som-ces emergency is the attitude of originality. It becomes more 

and to the active as one becomes conscious of the value of such experi- 

attitude mentation and accustomed to resort to it. Originality bears, 



Conscious Learnmg 



241 



of course, the closest relation, on the one hand, to cognitive re- 
sources and, on the other, to the critical attitude that by its 
dissatisfactions forces readjustment. The attitude of mental 
experiment is favored by such an organization of resources as 
promotes recall. Hence the organization of experience by 
selective correlating processes, since it associates this material 
in permanent, logical, and practically useful ways, is an im- 
portant asset of originality. Nothing, however, can defi- 
nitely replace that attitude of mental adventure, or unrest, of 
desire to know as well as to do and to be mentally as well as 
physically active, without which the resources and the sense 
of the emergency would fail of producing their most fruitful 
results. 

The second factor that contributes to the rise of judgment 
is the growth of evaluating materials. The perceptions and 
ideas that come into the mind must range themselves accord- 
ing to reliability and desirability, and we must become con- 
scious of these values, the reasons for assigning them, and the 
logical methods by which the comparisons and syntheses of 
ideational readjustment are brought about. 

The consciousness of values may be said to begin with the 
mere sense of the newness of certain situations which stimulates 
mental activity in regard to them. As one's power to feel and 
to cognize the unusual grows, he becomes capable of initiating 
thought processes without waiting for the rough shocks of 
failure that come from reacting to these situations automat- 
ically. The consciousness of the new, the strange, is the sim- 
plest form of the standard. It means that which as yet is un- 
certain, unsolved, — the problematic as contrasted with the 
habitual. The train of thought provoked by the apprehen- 
sion of an emergency is apt to involve perceptions or ideas 
which are fairly familiar and suggest responses that are in a 
measure habitual. At first the determination of which of 



(2) Growth 
of evalu- 
ated and 
evaluating 
ideas 



The sense of 
novelty as 
the simplest 
form of the 
standard 



242 



Principles of Education 



The grading 
of ideas ac- 
cording to 
relative 
desirability 
and prac- 
ticability 



these ideas shall gain the upper hand and control action is 
largely a matter of habit and feehng. Moreover, the re- 
sources of thinking are at first so meager that such ideas as 
appear are likely to be descriptive of very common experiences 
which are very like or very closely associated with the present 
emergency. It follows that whatever action they suggest is 
lilcely to prevail. The issue of the applicability of such ideas 
to the situation in hand is not raised. Only such as have ap- 
plicability are likely to get into the mind. 

But as the resources of intelligence increase in number and 
variety, it becomes increasingly possible to have ideas, which, 
however suggestive they may be of desirable consequences, 
are not practicable in the present situation. If this situation 
be well exploited by the mind, any idea that aspires to control 
will have to be coherent with the mental context constructed 
through such exploitation. It must, therefore, be not only a 
desirable idea but a practicable one ; and practicabiKty means 
not only agreement with fact in general, but also coherence 
with the present situation. To a hungry cow the idea of 
green pastures would be alluring, but the wisdom of being con- 
trolled by such an idea would depend both on the existence of 
its object and the possibility of reaching this from the present 
location. 

An individual capable of having many ideas which vary in 
their value as guides for action will inevitably come to exercise 
some sort of selection among these. If an idea is never useful, 
one may be sure that it will be eliminated altogether ; that 
is, will be forgotten. Such ideas as are useful occasionally and 
according to circumstances will tend to be recalled. When 
they do appear, it is necessary for the mind to determine in 
some way whether they represent a satisfactory combination 
of the desirable and the practicable. At first this determina- 
tion is — to reiterate an oft-repeated idea — largely a matter 



con- 



Conscious Learning 243 

of feeling. One feels that a certain idea represents a more satis- 
factory feasible plan of action than any other before attention. 
Such feelings are partly a result of trial and error learning, and 
so represent habitual ways of thinking. In part, however, 
they are the result of a sense of relationships, not quite clearly 
apprehended, which are able, as we have seen, to reorganize 
associations, in ways different from those of habit. An idea 
of the attractiveness of going home that would habitually 
start movement in that direction might in a strange place and 
after a long journey be negatived by a sense of the futility of 
any effort to return there. Here habit is nullified because it 
does not fit in with the prevailing context of thought. 

The feeling of coherence is itself dependent upon the extent The 

to which the standard by which it is determined has been es- sciousness 

... . . °' '-"^ 

tablished in the mind. To an individual with little or no sense standards 

of distance, direction, and general spatial arrangement, the anrof^'tL 

idea of home would be just as likely to evoke an endeavor to go '^^^ °f '^*^- 

herence 

thither when one has traveled so great a distance as to make 
return impracticable as it would when one gets into a some- 
what strange place in the immediate neighborhood of his abode. 
A little child might start for the desired haven without any 
appreciation of the relative possibility or impossibility of get- 
ting there. One with more experience might merely feel the 
impracticabihty of such action, without, however, knowing 
just why it should be so. The development of the concepts 
connected with space means that one has a basis by which 
judgment is able to determine in a clearly conscious way the 
practicability of many movements, and to guide them, if they 
are feasible, to a successful conclusion. 

The growth of evaluated and evaluating materials has been Summary of 
traced through the following steps : (i) the mere sense of the^"rowth 
strangeness that makes one aware of an emergency ; (2) the of the 
sense of relative desirability and practicability among com- of^vaiuer 



244 



Principles of Education 



The empiri- 
cal and 
logical 
tests of 
truth 



Early forms 
of the em- 
pirical test 



peting ideas that depends upon habit and felt coherence with 
certain standards of thought rather than upon a clear conscious- 
ness of the reasons upon which preferences are based ; (3) the 
definite consciousness of logical procedure. In general, the 
standard of judgment is that consistent system into which ex- 
perience persistently falls. We have in this standard two 
factors, consistency and persistence, which constitute the es- 
sence of all tests for truth. The system of knowledge must 
hang together, and there must be no exceptions to its con- 
stituent principles. When these characteristics of truth are 
brought to consciousness, we become aware of the essential 
principles of logical procedure ; we apply consciously what 
may be called the empirical and the logical tests of truth. The 
empirical standard of truth means that whatever is true must 
agree with experience; that is, it must be founded on experience 
and be verified by experience. It must persist. The logical 
standard means that whatever is true must cohere with every- 
thing else that is true. It must be consistent. 

The empirical test finds its simplest form in the processes 
of trial and error learning by which habits are formed. When 
it first rises into consciousness, it is as an appeal to the cus- 
tomary, the traditional, that which is authoritative because it 
has stood the test of practice. Any idea that can get the sup- 
port of custom and precedent at once has an extraordinary 
advantage in the struggle to capture judgment. The empirical 
test antedates the logical one. It comes up to ideational read- 
justment from simpler forms of learning, whereas the logical 
test finds no use except in a struggle among ideas. The hab- 
its of an organism must cohere in so far as they cross each other's 
paths. Otherwise they could not work. But incoherences 
among habits are corrected not by an awareness of their incon- 
sistency, but by the failure that springs from their inability 
to work together. We learn to coordinate our habits, because 



Conscious Learning 245 

otherwise they would be ineffective. Thus at this stage of 
learning the empirical test is the only one necessary. What- 
ever conforms to it must be as consistent as the demands of 
practice require. 

In perceptual readjustment the logical test appears in the The logical 
corroborations and contradictions of the data that come from ^^'^'^ ^^ *^°' 

herence 

the various senses while one is exploiting the nature of a situ- with au- 

ation. In this process the datum that fails to cohere with the sense^datT- 

mass of evidence is eliminated. However, some data may 

be more weighty than others. Some animals trust to smell 

as a final authoritative test. Touch usually has precedence 

over sight, while sound is more frequently suggestive merely 

of the presence of something that should be attended to than 

determinative of its nature. The establishment of relative 

authoritativeness among the senses, so far as this takes place 

in the lifetime of the individual, is a matter of experience and 

habit, and so of the empirical test. 

A second phase of the logical test appears in social inter- as social 
course. Even before the advent of articulate speech, animals biUt^*^^' 
get their cues as to how they should interpret situations, and 
what should in consequence be done, from observing the actions 
of companions. When speech appears, the resort to the con- 
sensus of opinion becomes the dominant form of logic. The 
true becomes the socially accepted. Wherever conflict arises 
among opinions, there relative weight is determined, as it is 
with the data of the senses, by the appeal to experience, to 
practical success, and so to custom or the empirical test. The 
opinion of the majority will, other things being equal, have the 
greater weight, but individuals may gain precedence by the 
same process by which habits are formed. 

When memory becomes strong enough to grasp a great mass 
of ideas in addition to the present data of sense, the logical 
problem first comes clearly before consciousness. One re- 



246 



Principles of Education 



The rise of members many cases in which coherence was attained among 
ultimate yarious data and by a variety of methods. He distinguishes 

standards ■> •' ° 

of truth; these methods of logical procedure, and compares them from 
arrange-'^ the point of vicw of relative effectiveness. The question is 
ment, laws raised as to the propriety of accepting the verdict of the ma- 

of nature, , 1 • • r i i r i • 

etc. jority, or the customary dommation of the data of this sense 

or of the opinions of that individual. Certain principles of 
judgment emerge, themselves clarified and justified by the 
experiments and verifications of practice, yet serving to dis- 
countenance any specific custom or precedent that fails to har- 
monize with them. Thus, having reached a notion of what 
is possible in the way of spatial arrangement, one would dis- 
credit any evidence, no matter how authoritative, that 
tended to put two things in the same place at the same time. 
We reach the conception of laws of nature, and, as Hume 
declares, no mere testimony could convince us that they have 
been violated. The notion of one's personality arises with its 
background of experience, all of which must be arranged con- 
sistently in a time series and according to the probabilities of 
the history of a life. Such a systematic self-consciousness 
becomes the basis for testing the truth of any idea that con- 
cerns it. Memory is, as we have seen, largely a reconstruc- 
tion, through the sense of relations, of that which is consistent 
with the general system of past things in the history of the 
race or of the individual.^ Memory proper, or the ideas that 
one has of his own specific past, is largely a product of such 
reconstruction. Thus the standards of thought are a basis, 
not only for eliminating the ideas that do not apply to the so- 
lution of any specific mental problem, as, for example, knowing 
one's past, but also for suggesting ideas that are pertinent, but 
would otherwise be unthought. 

The standards of thinking include all the categories that we 
^ Compare § 27. 



Conscious Learning 



247 



have mentioned as the objects of the consciousness of relations. 
As part of the machinery of judgm.ent they represent not mere 
relations that we think about, but also the valuation that is 
placed by thought upon these. Space, time, the relations of 
qualitative consistency, of quantitative consistency, of causal- 
ity, etc., make up a set of conditions to which the contents of 
thought must conform, if they are true. Through them laws 
of nature and the objects of the physical and mental world are 
fLxed in definite places in that system of reality which consti- 
tutes the standard to which all judgment refers. 

The elevation into clear consciousness of these logical rela- 
tions makes possible the weeding out of an enormous number 
of opinions that prevail because they result in action that is, 
on the whole, rather beneficial than the contrary. Such 
opinions may be said to be sanctioned by the empirical test. 
They work in practice, although for reasons quite different 
from what their believers suppose. Such persons may confuse 
one fact with another that is likely to accompany it. In the 
cure of disease one is apt to attribute to the medicine that 
which is really due to the regimen that accompanies its use. 
If an opinion is widely entertained in society, one is apt to 
suffer consequences that are at least disagreeable if he be skep- 
tical about it. Thus the idea works in practice because so- 
ciety compels it to. Authority cannot make a false belief, 
but it can make the part of prudence to be the acceptance of 
the falsehood. These inconsistencies in the judgment which 
is based on the empirical test alone begin to be weeded out 
when the individual man gets a wider array of facts and a 
firmer grip on the principles of consistency. Thus both the 
man and the race pass from an age of custom, tradition, and 
authority over to one of criticism, argument, and individual- 
ism. The beliefs that are sanctioned by habit and conven- 
tion are found not to be consistent. They are subjected to a 



Reaction of 
a knowl- 
edge of 
ultimate 
standards 
upon tra- 
dition and 
authority 



248 Principles of Education 

ruthless process of selection, in which many disappear. At 
such times the prevalent emphasis upon the principles of log- 
ical coherence is apt to cause them to be elevated above the 
Rejection of empirical test of truth. It is assumed that mere thinking, 

the empi"- without reference to experience or practice, will give truth. 

logical test Thus Greek philosophy soon came to the conclusion that the 
senses gave only contradiction and illusion, and that reason 
alone could attain the reality. They exalted the principle of 
consistency to such an extent that they conceived the world of 
ordinary experience and practice not to be worthy of study 
or interest because they did not find it capable of a ready formu- 
lation in a coherent system of thought. Thus the reason that 
was in the first instance invoked as a guide to practice asserted 
its supremacy by denying the significance and worth of any 
practice except that which took no account of worldly conse- 
quences; that is, of concrete human experience. The em- 
pirical test was swept away. 
Fallacy of In the retum movement toward empiricism the logical tests 

iiT thT*" have often been underrated. We have never gone back to blind 

logical test traditionalism, but in our logical discussion we have sometimes 
assumed that experience and not thinking, practice and not 
reflection, are the sources of knowledge. But knowledge is an 
adjunct of conscious learning, and not of readjustment by 
mere practice, or trial and error. It is that consistent system 
of thought which springs, not from experience alone, but from 
experience organized by logic and so capable of anticipating 
the results of practice. The empirical test is the basis of all 
learning, but without the cooperation of logic we cannot have 
conscious learning. In the consciousness of the interrelation 
of these two standards judgment comes to appreciate its true 
function. 

This appreciation enables the mind to attain the highest 
form of the critical attitude. We may call this the attitude 



Conscious Learning 



249 



(3) Growth of 
the critical 
attitude 



of deliberation. Criticism begins with inhibition, — and in- 
hibition which at first is founded upon positive failure, but 
later in evolution comes to be stirred up by the sense of nov- 
elty in a situation, so that one hesitates and investigates or 
reflects before he acts. Thus there appears that alertness 
which we have already emphasized as a phase of the attitude 
of originaHty. Corresponding to it is the critical attitude of 
doubt. As the fund of ideas grows, it comes to be supple- 
mented more and more by reflectiveness which is sustained by 
the sense of inconclusiveness. When the meaning of logical 
procedure has been clearly grasped, these attitudes attain the 
form of deliberation. The attitude of deliberation means that 
one is fully aware of the principles upon which judgment is 
based and will not decide until conformity to them has been 
reached. This does not mean that decision must wait a plan 
that is entirely satisfactory. If deliberation be always car- 
ried to that extreme, it may reach indecision. It is only nec- 
essary that one should have the power to reflect as long as re- 
flection is likely to be profitable rather than injurious, and 
that decision should fix upon that plan which, all things con- 
sidered, is the wisest that has been suggested. 

Judgment, then, reaches its highest form in deliberate rea- Summary 
soning. This section may, therefore, be summarized by a Descript 
description of reasoning, in which the process of evolution 
that we have traced culminates. Reasoning means a pause 
of reflection. The critical attitude is alive, and roused by the 
sense of an emergency, the mind has thrown itself into an 
attitude of experimentation, of original endeavor. Experi- 
mental perception may supply a mass of data. Experimental 
ideation supplements, perhaps swamps this with its own prod- 
ucts. At any rate we have a mass of material struggling for 
attention. Professor Titchener calls this material an "ag- 
gregate idea." The process of reasoning involves the logical 



ion 
of reason- 
ing 



250 Principles of Education 

resolution of the aggregate idea into a coherent decision, that 
can satisfactorily to judgment seize and hold the attention. 
Moreover, to have reasoning we must be conscious of this logic ; 
there must be apprehended and not merely felt coherence. 
This means that the aggregate idea must be clearly separated 
into ideas that are evaluated in reference to their desirabihty 
and practicabiHty, and ideas that have as yet to pass through 
the process of evaluation before they can be applied to the 
present emergency. There must be standards and plans. The 
standards must include a mass of facts about things, persons, 
places, events in the history of the physical, social, and mental 
worlds, laws of nature, — all gathered together in what may 
be called the system of reality. These facts have been evalu- 
ated by previous processes of thought. They have satisfied, 
in a measure at least, both the empirical and the logical tests 
of truth, and their relative standing in the system of reality is 
in proportion to the extent to which these tests have been ap- 
plied and met. Further, the standards must embrace a clear 
consciousness of the principles of coherence, such as those of 
space and time and the categories of logic, so that when new 
ideas are judged one may know not only that with which they 
are compared, but also the principles that underlie the process 
of comparison. Especially must one realize the relative im- 
portance and specific functions of the empirical and the log- 
ical tests of truth. Otherwise, that which has the better em- 
pirical proof may be rejected because of logical inconsistency 
with what has an inferior justification from practice. Finally, 
the critical attitude, strengthened by a consciousness of the 
value of reasoning and its mechanism, must assert its sway so 
effectively that no decision is reached that is not a product of 
conscious assent, and of the conviction that reflection has done 
its best under the circumstances. 



CHAPTER IX 



THE EDUCATION OF THE REASON 



Section 29, General problem of educating the reason 

The culmination of the evolution of education is in the edu- 
cation of the reason. In its simplest form education makes 
simply for readjustment in the individual. When, with the 
evolution of rejuvenation and of society, a problem of saving 
acquired characters and social heredity arises, education as- 
sumes this function and becomes recapitulatory, conservative, 
readjusting the individual, but preserving the existing adjust- 
ments of the race. Finally, however, there appears in the 
individual a capacity to readjust that seems capable of pre- 
serving itself against the encroachments of habit. With the 
growth of this function its potency is brought more and more 
clearly to the attention of men, and education gradually in- 
terests itself more and more in the endeavor to foster so efifec- 
tive an instrument. Rationality stands out as the primary 
aim of culture. The school ceases to think mainly of definite 
adjustment, and comes to emphasize especially that power 
to readjust which may rightly be regarded as the most valu- 
able quality the man may have. 

That it is possible to educate the reason is a common as- 
sumption. Yet it is not easy to demonstrate the success of 
modern endeavors in that direction. Education that aims to 
create habits, either of action or of thought, with an eye to their 
specific efficiency, can without great difficulty appraise the re- 
sults of its efforts. It is easy to see when the habits are formed, 

251 



Evolution 
from re- 
capitula- 
tory to ra- 
tional edu- 
cation 



Paradoxical 
nature of 
the train- 
ing of the 
reason 



252 Principles of Education 

and not very hard to estimate their utihty. But since reason 
is invoked only in new situations, and these by the very nature 
of the case are unexpected, a preparation for reasoning seems 
paradoxical. Indeed, it would appear that he who reasons 
well simply utilizes in unusual ways what he learned primarily 
for other uses. In other words, what was cultivated in him 
was specific efficiency, and education must rely solely upon 
inborn talent for the adaptation of such resources to the un- 
foreseen. Even if resources could be acquired merely be- 
cause of the vague hope that on some occasion they might be 
utiHzed, the process would seem like wanton waste when so 
much is to be learned that makes for definite uses as well as 
merely possible ones. 
Rationality Paradoxical as the education of the reason may seem, it in- 

of'the'nat^- volvcs merely an attempt consciously to affect factors which 
urai ten- are everywhere in evidence, as the basis of power to readjust, 
vary^ ° When nature would readapt a species to its environment, 
nothing can be done unless the stock in question possesses the 
power to vary, whether that power be displayed orthogeneti- 
cally, heterogenetically, or in mere chance variations. If an 
individual is to learn, he must have, as we have seen, a resource- 
ful action system, and this includes not only power to do 
many things, but also the ability to do them in response to 
situations which they were not designed to meet. Thus 
when we come to consciousness and to reason, we do not find 
any exception to the general rule in the fact that the founda- 
tion of these functions should lie in resources which derive 
their origin from no specific attempt to perform the tasks to 
which later they are found to be so well adapted. Readjust- 
ment is invariably a process of selection among materials that 
have been, for the most part, in use in other connections, and 
were all originally the outcome of an innate potentiality of 
creation. 



dency 



The Education of the Reason 253 

This inner potentiality does not seem, however, to be utterly Examples of 
beyond the influence of directive agencies. There is at times ,^^^ ^"^"^f" , 

•' ^ tive control 

about the variation of species and the accumulation of re- of this ten- 
sources by individuals what appears like an appropriate prep- 
aration for the emergencies that are to be. The expansion of 
inner powers seems here not to be a mere chance affair, but 
orthogenetic. We have seen that the selective process has a 
reaction upon the power to readjust along dependent lines of 
development. The selective encouragement of growth in a 
certain direction means the development of a tendency to fur- 
ther growth along the same line, or of a form that can readily 
vary further in the same general way. Well-selected habits 
are a basis for new habits formed by coordinating them. The 
action system of man is, doubtless, by ages of selection emi- 
nently well fitted for the greatest variety of those emergencies 
that are likely to arise in his environment. In the field of 
consciousness the same fact is clearly illustrated. The pro- 
cess of selection by which perceptual interpretations are fixed, 
images discriminated, and ideas of relation abstracted is a 
source of extraordinary gain to the resources of thinking. 
Everywhere, then, the accumulation of resources seems to 
receive positive guidance from the processes that have deter- 
mined the value of similar resources in the past. And if 
selection does not guide positively, it may do so negatively. 
It may, by eliminating those who vary in certain directions, 
root out all but those who tend to develop in approved ones. 
If the possibilities of development happen to be limited, the 
destruction of some means the restriction of variation to the 
residual direction. The logic of the disjunctive syllogism 
here converts the denial of certain alternatives into the 
affirmation of another, provided the potentialities of the 
organism enable it to produce such an alternative. 

It would seem, then, that nature had afforded to man an 



254 



Principles of Education 



Curiosity as 
directive 
in the ac- 
quisition 
of the most 
useful ex- 
perience 



Methods by 
which edu- 
cation can 
assist 
reason 



example of providing with considerable selective skill ma- 
terials characterized by availability when readjustment is 
necessary. The power of cognition is, as we have seen, merely 
a saving of what may prove worth while in conscious learn- 
ing. But attention and cognition instinctively direct them- 
selves to points that are, on the whole, likely to be involved in 
the later problems of the mind. The instinct of curiosity 
seems to have no other utility than this of provoking atten- 
tion and the accumulation of knowledge about things in 
anticipation of its actual use. Curiosity seems to cling to 
the other instincts, especially to such as in their nature or in 
the methods by which they are satisfied are likely to be affected 
by variable conditions. It is, of course, especially aroused 
when one fails to gain one's instinctive wants. However, we 
are curious about that which has as yet offered no problem of 
readjustment to any other instinct except that of curiosity. 
Moreover, the extent of our curiosity in any field is not in 
proportion to the immediacy of the need of readjustment 
therein. Thus the instinct develops apparently to provide 
a permanent interest in the accumulation of that sort of 
knowledge which is on the whole most useful in new situations. 
Through it the process of gathering experience is not left to 
the direction of chance emergencies, but goes on along broader 
lines. One learns more than is necessary for the moment, and 
about things which at the moment are of no practical concern 
except that one wants to learn them. 

The education of the reason means a conscious endeavor 
to supplement and to guide the work done under the influence 
of the instinct of curiosity. Curiosity enlarges the circle of 
interests, and thus leads to a broader, more reliable equipment 
of knowledge than would spring from the emergencies of the 
other instincts. Education can seize these interests and ex- 
pand them. It can exercise supervision over the kind of ex- 



The Education of the Reason 255 

perience that the young obtain, to see that it is fundamental 
and not merely incidental, that it is universal rather than par- 
ticular, and that it is comprehensive and not confined to a 
special field. It can direct attention toward organizing this 
knowledge in ways most likely to promote recall in new situa- 
tions. It can cultivate the attitude of invoking this knowl- 
edge, and the power of applying it critically. Thus man by 
his conscious effort carries on the work of nature in providing 
material for learning. The selective control of the process of 
acquiring experience renders its results far more widely useful 
for reasoning than if they have been gained at haphazard. 
To deny that one can educate the reason means that here the 
elevation into consciousness of a process that hitherto has 
been carried on by merely natural forces shall fail of bringing 
with it the gain in effectiveness that usually accompanies this 
step in evolution. 

As a preliminary to a more specific treatment of our topic, Two general 
two general principles regarding the training of the reason may rJ'ardin ^ 
be laid down. In the first place, since the materials for reason- the culture 
ing are gained in the course of eft'ecting readjustments, their reason: 
acquisition is for the most part merely incidental to the pur- (^) Process 
pose immediately in hand when they are acquired. It follows portant 
that for the culture of the reason process becomes of more im- *^^j , 

'^ product 

portance than product, reasons are of greater concern than 
the conclusions that we derive from them, and the description 
of a situation is of more ultimate value than the habit of deal- 
ing with it effectively. We learn habits in spite of our mis- 
takes; we learn to reason because of them. The comprehen- 
sion of that in the situation which makes a certain response 
effective, and of that which in other responses is the ground 
of their failure, is what makes it possible for any piece of learn- 
ing to be a source of thinking power in future situations that 
are different but possess like elements. 



256 



Principles of Education 



Definite 
nature of 
the results 
of atten- 
tion to the 
process of 
learning 



Attention to 
process and 
the culture 
of the logi- 
cal atti- 
tudes 



(2) Mental 
enrichment 
should 
precede 
training in 
the logical 
attitudes 



By saying that for the culture of the reason process becomes 
of more importance than product, it is not meant to empha- 
size any mere abstract power of reasoning that may be sup- 
posed to result from this process. On the contrary, the re- 
sults that attention to the process of learning bring are quite 
as definite, as concrete, and as positive as are the habits of 
thought or action at which the learning process immediately 
aims. The knowledge of the reason why three times four are 
twelve is as definite a matter as is the fact itself. If one wishes 
to know this product, the habit of thought and action which 
mechanically yields it does not gain in effectiveness from the 
knowledge of its reason. If, however, one desires to attain a 
new product or to verify the dicta of mechanical memory, 
these reasons become of prime importance. They are definite 
resources of great value in dealing with new situations. 

In addition to this great mass of descriptive and explanatory 
knowledge that springs from attention to the process, we gain 
from this same source in power to take the logical attitudes. 
One gets in the habit of thinking, and with that goes a gain in 
the tendency to be both original and critical in dealing with 
new situations. Here again it is intended to maintain that 
one gains not any vague abstract power, but rather a very 
definite mass of habits and emotions that determine the direc- 
tion of attention and the activities of thinking. The nature 
of these and the methods of cultivating them will be taken up 
in a special section. 

The second general principle regarding the culture of the 
reason is that everywhere the acquisition of materials should 
precede the endeavor to arouse the logical attitudes. It is 
evident that the boldness of originality will quickly be tamed 
into the commonplace if one has no resources for it to summon 
forth. Herein lies no danger and no need of caution, except 
to warn the teacher that original creations should not be ex- 



The Education of the Reason 257 

pected to spring, like a bolt from the blue, out of empty minds. 
But it is different regarding the critical attitude. The edu- 
cation of a child may begin with inhibitions, and may continue 
to emphasise them at the expense of positive thought and ac- 
tion. Necessary as is the critical attitude, to attempt to de- 
velop it before the child has any resources of experience to 
criticise is to encourage a timid, hesitating, indecisive tem- 
perament. One is paralyzed before he begins to think. Or, 
perhaps, for lack of positive material upon which to exercise 
its influence, the critical attitude may fail to become a real inner 
force, and remain attached to certain external commanding 
agencies which must be in evidence before it is displayed. In 
matters of moral discipline this alternative is especially likely 
to appear. The child is taught to control himself before he 
has any substitute for what he is forbidden to do. He is thus 
reduced to helpless passivity, or driven to invent cunning de- 
vices to dodge the penalties that disobedience involves. In 
any event, the control is so foreign to his active nature that he 
never exerts it except from compulsion. The only genuine 
control consistent with activity is the control of choice, and 
this cannot appear until one has accumulated material upon 
which it may act. 

We may assume, then, that the reason can be cultivated. Summary 
Paradoxical as it seems, nature offers us examples of prepar- 
ing for the unexpected, or the emergency. She does this in 
rejuvenation, in the capacity to learn, in cognitive conscious- 
ness, in the instinct of curiosity. Nature even shows an ap- 
propriateness of preparation, since what is provided as capital 
for readjustment is found to include, on the whole, that which 
is more likely to work than not. There is an orthogenesis 
about the evolution of the action system. The materials of 
social heredity are selected for the progress as well as for the 
perfection of the individual, and curiosity displays its activity 



258 



Principles of Education 



in fields especially likely to prove fruitful of devices in sub- 
sequent emergencies. This unconscious foresight can be bet- 
tered by the intelligence of man in the cultivation of the reason. 
In that task the process becomes of more importance than 
the product, for it is the reasons and the descriptions that ex- 
plain the success of what is learned and the sources of error 
and failure that are of use in later emergencies rather than 
the specific adjustments at which learning immediately aims. 
Lastly, all training of the reason should begin in the wise ac- 
cumulation of resources and follow this by the cultivation of 
the logical attitudes. 



Education 
begins with 
developing 
resources 



Criticism 
comes later 
and should 
not impede 
expansion 
of power 



Section 30. The accumulation of mental materials 

If we analyze the materials of reasoning into plans and stand- 
ards, it is evident that the acquisition of the former must pre- 
cede the establishment of the latter. Early education is natu- 
rally an expansion. From the physical point of view, the child 
tries all its useful muscles and nearly all possible combinations 
of movement. It is the wriggling age, out of which emerges 
the possibility of varied and flexible control. From the mental 
point of view, the child passes from an age of primitive curiosity, 
that serves the simpler instincts and exploits through perception 
the world of commonest things, to an age of imagination and 
make-believe. This is the period of rich efHorescence of thought, 
out of which the child grows into a critical epoch. In this later 
period the acceptable idea is winnowed out from the mass of 
fancies. Truth is separated from falsehood. Memory proper 
is differentiated from imagination. But in the rage for criti- 
cism, for training, that is apt then to appear, the teacher 
must beware lest the child cease to accumulate and to originate. 
There can be no healthy mental development without constant 
additions to the mental resources. A school that would culti- 



The Education of the Reason 



259 



may be 

made 

typical. 

Value 

of the 

concept 



vate reason must be a place of ceaseless activity, and it is more 
important at the start that the child should be active than that 
the activity should be approved. Herein lies the truth of 
President Hall's insistence on the free play of all instinctive 
activities/ and of Rousseau's ideal of a childhood of unrestricted 
sport. 

However, certain kinds of resources are more profitable than Experience 
others. It cannot be said that we are left with no method of 
providing for reason except by encouraging the child to acquire 
an indiscriminate mass of material. Without reference to 
specific uses, it is certain that some images, some ideas will be 
far more useful in the endeavor to grasp new situations than are 
others. Education of the reason is, as Professor McMurry 
suggests, continually in search of the type.^ Typical experi- 
ence is such as proves the clew to the interpretation and treat- 
ment of a great variety of specific emergencies. It takes, under 
the influence of the processes of generalization and abstraction, 
the form of the concept, which represents just that about ex- 
perience which makes it typical ; i.e. the universal quality. 
The concept sums up many particulars ; that is, it contains 
that in them which is useful when applied to new situations. 

The resources of the reason, then, consist ultimately of con- 
cepts, which, in consequence, are the goal of such instruction 
as aims to cultivate the reason.^ The concept is an idea of 
relation. It grasps together many factors that are always to 
be found together in every case to which it applies. This is its 
intension. Wherever we have fire., we have many things going 
on. Heat is present, and if we come too near, we shall suffer 
pain. Substances are being destroyed, or rather transformed 
from solids, liquids, or gases, as the case may be, into certain 
gases, with perhaps a residuum of ashes. We might continue 



^ Compare § 21. 

* Compare The Method of the Recitation, Ch. X. 



* Compare ibid., Ch. IV. 



26o Principles of Education 



unit in 
reasoning 



The concept the account of the intension of the concept, fire, almost in- 
or^rldk-'^ definitely, but it is necessary only to note that its value in pre 
tion, the diction, and so as a basis for dealing with new situations, de- 
pends upon this intension. When we can safely apply the 
concept, we can with assurance forecast the presence of the 
various factors of the intension, even though they are not yet 
present to observation. Thus the mind leaps ahead of the 
given data to interpretations. The associations or relation- 
ships which when seized and abstracted yield concepts are the 
active dynamic principles that lead thought on. Hence they 
are responsible for the interpretations of perception, for the 
images and ideas that course into the mind in thinking. When 
these relationships are generalized into concepts, one comes to 
apprehend the principles that bind his experience together and 
that enable ideation and conscious learning. 
The abstrac- The elevation of the associations of thought into conscious- 
tion of con- ^^^gg -^^ ^^ ioxvci of ideas of relation, or concepts, enables their 

cepts as 

necessary criticism. One is made aware of the prmciples that govern his 
critkbm thought, and is able to test their reliability. The concept forms 
of thinking a nuclcus about which a larger and larger intension gathers, and 
from which elements mistakenly supposed to belong to its in- 
tension are being continually excluded. Moreover, the inten- 
sion is gradually broken up into factors that are invariably 
present, and factors that are only occasionally in evidence. 
Especially important in this analysis of intension is the dis- 
covery of those elements that can be used as criteria in apply- 
ing the concept to new cases. These are the defining charac- 
ters. When they are present, one can apply the corresponding 
concept, and so add in safely any other elements of the inten- 
sion that may prove of value in dealing with the case in hand. 
The abstraction of the concept from the concrete cases to 
which it applies assists in its criticism and also in its application. 
As has been said, it represents just that in particular instances 



S 



The Education of the Reason 261 

which can be applied universally. Therefore its recognition, 
criticism, and definition make available in a universal form 
this potent agency. It is freed from the accidental associations 
that might confuse and prevent its application where it prop- 
erly belongs, or lead to a false use. Hence the accumulation 
of resources for reasoning means primarily the abstraction 
and the criticism of concepts. 

There can be no question that the process of generalization Concepts to 
makes for ability to discover in new situations something that should be 
is famihar. On the other hand, the teacher must be careful in derived 

from the 

dealing out to the child concepts to avoid the common error of concrete 
supposing that it is enough to impart a truth in a generalized 
form. Here again Professor McMurry has a valuable sugges- 
tion ^ ; namely, that only concepts that have been derived from 
and illustrated in concrete material are properly endowed with 
meaning and usefulness to their possessor. The truth of this 
principle is not self-evident. Why should not the generalized 
form be enough ? Since it is only this universal factor that can 
be applied, one would think that in so far as it retained the evi- 
dences of its origin from particular data it would be incum- 
bered and confused by unessential factors, the absence of which 
in new cases would prevent its recognition therein. 

Now although facts possess value just in so far as they have Accidental 
been or are capable of generalization, the bare abstraction is helpful ^^n° 
perhaps quite as valueless as the mere particular. For while recaU 
it is in the form that makes it readily applicable, this form alone 
does not render it easy to be remembered and recalled. The 
conditions that cause any element to be revived in memory 
are complex. It is rare, indeed, that a principle is recalled 
when no link of resemblance save that of this common abstract 
concept exists between the new situation and the earlier ones 
from which the principle was derived. A physician who has 
• Compare Method of the Recitation. 



262 Principles of Education 

observed in the sickroom the symptoms of a certain disease is 
more likely to recognize the disease in a new case than if he had 
only read about these symptoms. This is true not only be- 
cause the actual observation impresses the symptoms upon the 
mind, but also because the circumstances of these actual cases 
resemble in many more points the new case than do the circum- 
stances attendant upon reading a book or listening to a lecture. 
One would be likely to recall book knowledge in reading new 
books or in discussing the Hterature of the subject. When 
one actually faces the concrete situation where the knowledge 
is to be used, the ease with which he can call up his resources 
depends directly upon the amount of similarity between the 
total situation before him and the total situation in which his 
knowledge was obtained. Into this total enter elements that 
may seem to have the most accidental connection with the vital 
principle that relates the present with the past. A mere simi- 
larity in subjective mood may constitute a link that helps recall 
quite as effectively as does the logical principle the application 
of which is the fimction of the recollection. 
"Total re- Profcssor James has called that type of recall in which the 

its preva- Suggested experience is brought back because of its connection 
with all or nearly all of the present context of thought and feel- 
ing total recall.^ If we were to represent this context by a, &, c, 
d^ etc., among which are not only the dominant sensations, 
images, concepts, and feelings, but also receding and rising ones, 
then any experience that is called up not merely by the in- 
fluence of d, but also by the help of a, b, c, etc., is a result of 
total recall. On the other hand, if d alone, or in conjunction 
with a small portion of the context, calls up an experience dis- 
connected with the rest, we have partial recall. Total recall 
means the unrestricted domination of the mechanical laws of 
habit, which, as we have seen, constitute the original dynamic 
1 Psychology (Briefer Course), Ch. XVI. 



lence 



reason 



The Education of the Reason 263 

of mental association. Partial recall means the introduction 
of selection, of preferences. It means the disintegration of the 
associations of mere habit in order that they may be made to 
conform to those of logic. ^ 

Both types of recall are instrumental in affording resources to "Partial re- 
reason. They supplement each other, and yet are distinct in peciaiiy^ 
operation. Total recall, the recall of habit, furnishes the basis helpful to 
by which materials are originally brought together in the mind. 
The grip of such memory, with its mechanical links of cus- 
tomary connection, causes a mass of material to accumulate in 
the general field of attention. Thereafter processes of selection, 
resolution, and reorganization set in. The effect of these is to 
single out certain factors, making them more powerful in sug- 
gesting force than the others, because they and their associated 
thoughts represent more reliable, more consistent, more im- 
portant factors in experience. In this process of evaluation 
the analytical power of mind comes to the front, and it is upon 
analysis that originality largely depends. However, the selec- 
tive activities that are operative in partial recall cannot be- 
come active until the mechanism of habitual memory has pro- 
vided material. Moreover, after analysis, selection, and reor- 
ganization have done their work, their results must be intrusted 
again to the binding force of a new set of habits in order that 
they may control the current of thought in the future processes 
of recall. 

Partial recall is recall through selected, generalized, evalu- 
ated associations. Total recall means the continued influence 
of associations of habit that do not have the same universal 
character, yet add their weight to the forces that determine the 
current of the thought. Herein lies the main reason why gen- 
eralizations are more apt to be useful when they come to us 
embedded in a concrete experience many of the elements of 

1 Compare § 27. 



264 



Principles of Educatio7i 



Four applica- 
tions of the 
principle 
that con- 
cepts 
should be 
derived 
from the 
concrete : 

(i) Induc- 
tive teach- 
ing 



which are likely to recur in the cases where the generalizations 
are to be used. Education, therefore, while it emphasizes the 
superior importance of the universal, which is abstract, cannot 
neglect the particular with which it is connected so habitu- 
ally that the child and even the man find it difficult to recall 
the one without the other. 

Four general principles of method may be said to find their 
logical ground in this principle that generalizations are more 
likely to be recalled when derived from and associated with a 
mass of concrete associations similar to the situations in which 
they are likely to be used. These are: (i) Concepts should be 
taught inductively ; (2) the concepts must be well apperceived ; 
(3) the schoolroom environment should correspond as closely 
as possible to that of life ; and (4) concepts can best be reached 
through the study of types. The inductive method of teaching 
has been emphasized by educational reformers since the time 
of Comenius. It received a formulation by the Herbartians, 
as the formal steps in teaching. These are given by Professor 
Rein as preparation, presentation, comparison, generalization, 
and appHcation. Preparation means gathering together the 
knowledge that the children already possess on a given subject. 
Presentation means putting them in possession of new concrete 
facts relating to this subject. The facts will naturally be 
chosen so as to stir up curiosity in regard to their explanation, 
and will lead, when they are explained, to principles of far- 
reaching importance. The comparison consists of the presen- 
tation of other concrete cases illustrating the same principles, 
so that these common concepts may be forced more clearly 
upon the attention. Then, having thus carefully prepared the 
ground, the generalizations are made, and the concepts stated 
in abstract form. Finally, these concepts are applied to explain 
new cases, and thus are verified, drilled in the memory, and 
familiarized in a still wider variety of contexts. 



The Education of the Reason 



265 



The formal steps were designed not only that the concepts 
that are the goal of education may be derived from the concrete 
instances, but also that whatever is learned may be thoroughly 
interrelated with the rest of the contents of the mind. This, of 
course, means apperception. According to the Herbartians, if 
the material of instruction is really to be absorbed so that it 
comes to interest and to affect the will and, in consequence, to 
establish character, it must be apperceived or thoroughly as- 
similated. Apperception means in the step of preparation the 
bringing up of the old in order to connect it with the new. In 
comparison it means organizing experience into systems. In 
generalization these systems are bound faster by the conscious- 
ness of the principle that connects them. In application a still 
wider field of experience is brought within the net of appercep- 
tion. In all this the advantage lies in insuring recall. So 
many associations are established that a given item of thought 
can scarce escape the summons to consciousness when it is 
needed. The associations of apperception include, of course, 
as their chief factor the fundamental concepts. But there 
remains a vast mass of mere superficial associations which 
contribute materially to one's power to utilize what he has 
learned, and these the instruction that aims at apperception 
does not neglect. 

Perhaps the completest statement of the principle which we 
are discussing is to be found in the rallying cry of so much of 
modern educational reform; namely, that the school should 
conform to life. The conditions of learning should, as Pro- 
fessor Dewey insists,^ conform as closely as possible to the 
conditions of application. Apperception not only should con- 
nect the new with the old, but it should strive to connect the 
new with that which is yet to be. But what is yet to be is not 
altogether determinate in character. The emergencies of life 
^ The School and Society. 



(2) Appercep- 
tion as an 
aid to re- 
call, furnish- 
ing both 
fundamen- 
tal and su- 
perficial as- 
sociations 



(3) Conform- 
ity of the 
school to 
Ufa 



266 



Principles of Education 



(4) The use 
of the type. 
Typical 
superficial 
associa- 
tions 



The evalua- 
tion of ex- 
perience. 
Selection of 
typical 
cases 



are unexpected and varied. Hence the school, in endeavor- 
ing to anticipate them, not only abstractly but concretely as 
well, must typify life in the greatest variety of representative 
situations. There can be no doubt that the remodeling of the 
school so that it may surround the child with an environment 
like that in which he lives outside school, and like that which he 
will occupy when his school days are over, will greatly increase 
the power to recall and to use what this institution has taught. 

But while it is important that principles should be deduced 
from the concrete, it is no less important that the instances that 
are used as a basis of induction or for illustration or application 
should be selected, typical. The type, as Professor McMurry 
points out, is the link between the concrete and the generaliza- 
tion. It is that concrete instance which presents, in what may 
be styled its more unessential details, similarity to the widest 
range of cases to which the principle in question applies. In- 
struction through typical cases preserves the advantage of an 
appeal to total recall, while at the same time leading inevitably 
to that vital principle which it is the function of all recall to 
bring into use. 

The accumulation of mental materials involves, in addition 
to experience and to provision for its recall, a differentiation 
of the contents of the mind on the basis of usefulness. Ideas 
must be evaluated. Resources must include not only plans of 
action, but also standards to which these can be submitted in 
being judged. The initial step in this process of evaluation 
is the selection of typical experience. As the fund of experience 
grows, certain cases inevitably force themselves on the atten- 
tion as typical. They can be used again and again as a basis for 
the interpretation of new situations. The process of selecting 
typical experience is, when allowed to go on in a merely natural 
way, slow, laborious, and replete with erroneous valuations. 
The primary service of the school in the education of the reason 






The Education of the Reason 



267 



generaliza- 
tion as a 
basis for a 
sense of 
relative 
values and 
power of 
criticism 



lies in the selection of the concrete experience which will prove 
of most avail, so that the difficulties o± learning this by trial 
and error wiM in a measure be smoothed out. 

On the other hand, the, real appreciation of relative values Training in 
can arise only from a sense of the bad consequences of following 
unreliable standards and the advantages of the opposite policy. 
One cannot realize the difference that exists between standards 
and experience that is not appraised, if he is never faced with 
any experience that is not standardized. The development of 
judgment is in proportion to the clearness with which one is 
able to make his way in the midst of the suggestions of error 
toward that which can be trusted. But it is not necessary to 
leave the chUd to flounder along without help till judgment 
comes. In fact, so far from impeding the development of the 
critical sense, the help of the school may constitute the most 
favorable condition for its rise. In affording typical experi- 
ence and in cultivating the tendency toward generalization 
the school is fostering a practice which lies at the very founda- 
tion of all criticism. Only in the form of a concept can the 
relations upon which the conclusions of thought are based be 
criticised and standardized. In all learning experimentation 
precedes selection, hypothesis is the foundation of knowledge. 
Getting the child into the attitude of generalization is to do 
what Socrates tried to do for the Greeks, to establish a definite 
starting point from which criticism can proceed logically with- 
out the confusion that mere reference to the concrete is bound 
to involve. 

The important thing to note, so far as method is concerned, 
is that while judgment must be a result of personal experience 
with truth and error, the process of differentiating the two is 
quickened to an extraordinary degree by the clear definition of 
concepts, and by such assistance as enables the various criteria 
of truth to be clearly distinguished and applied. Thus the 



268 PrincipU'i oj Jiatuan'on 

% - .... 

selected expciience of the school, iAstead of checkiro: criticism 

and the growth o." a sense of relative values, hasten; uie advent 
of these attitudes by rmtling the child in a po; ulun to i . "''ze 
the overwhelming import:. nee of the Qvaluating proces,- 
ad vantage of judgment does a<A appear great so long as judg- 
ment is very poor. Increase its efficacy, and the child is over- 
whelmingly convinced of its need. 
Steps in the The first Step in the differentiation of standards is the selec- 
mrat oTthe ^^^^ ^^ typical experience which the child doe^ not yet realize 
conscious- to be typical. The second step is the formation of concepts. 
standards When these are by the child applied, it is possible for him more 
readily to separate the true from the false and to make the 
proper corrections. This one may call the third step. It leaves 
the child with a mass of ideas that he knows to be reliable, 
which stand out in sharp relief against the untested or the dis- 
proved. But meanwhile a new set of ideas is being differenti- 
ated, defined, apphed, and tested. These are the criteria of the 
process of judgment itself, the laws of consistent thinking, 
the empirical and the rational tests of truth, the principles of 
quantitative, spatial, temporal, and causal arrangement. The 
school leads the child to distinguish these, thereby putting him 
in a position to test their value as guides to practice. 
The stand- The Standardization of thought tends to the elimination, the 

ofthoi-ht forgetting of that which does not conform. It thus falls in 
as a check with all habit-forming in involving a loss of resources, with, 
naiity^'' 0^ coursc, a Corresponding loss of originality, resourcefulness, 
except along dependent hnes of progress. An individual, a 
race, or an age may fall into habits of thinking, and find it dif- 
ficult or impossible to entertain other standards, or even to 
think outside the beaten path. Thus mental processes, like 
physiological ones, tend toward an adjustment that fits the en- 
vironment, and when this environment changes, it is to the new 
generation, with its capacity for variation and experimentation 



The Education of the Reason 269 

toward different standards of thought, that we must look for 
readjustment. It is possible that in its higher reaches 
thought has attained standards that will always apply. 
Doubtless, philosophy and science have established principles 
that with proper application constitute an universal adjust- 
ment. Throughout eternity they will prove safe guides to 
action. Even here, however, to lose the sense of alternatives, 
to think mechanically, is likely to cause one to apply the prin- 
ciple without adequate regard to special conditions, and so to 
fail of complete success in its use. No principle, however 
universal, can be satisfactorily applied without regard to the 
specific problem in hand. Thus habituation is ever a possible 
source of danger to the proper functioning of reason and, in- 
deed, of all readjusting processes. 

In resume, we may say that the accumulation of materials Summary 
for reasoning begins with the mere acquisition of experience. 
It is well that this experience be from the first fairly repre- 
sentative and that it be carried, as rapidly as is consistent with 
clearness, on to the stage of generalization. The concept 
represents the universal, which can alone be applied in new 
cases. It represents this universal in an abstract form which 
can be definitely apprehended and criticised. But mere ab- 
stractions not derived from and widely illustrated in the con- 
crete are not likely to be recalled when they are needed. The 
multitude of factors entering into the context of new situations 
distract the mind, and lead it far from the principle which it 
seeks, unless they are similar to the contexts in which the 
principle was learned. Resourcefulness requires attention to 
this principle of total recall. From the point of view of method, 
it leads to the inductive method of teaching, regard for apper- 
ception, making the school environment similar to life, and 
the use of types. 

As the experience that is necessary to provide resources for 



270 



Prmciples of Education 



reasoning is being acquired, the standards of judgment may 
also be given. The steps preparatory to the appreciation of 
these are famiharity with typical experiences and generaliza- 
tion. Then comes the step of appHcation, in which the critical 
sense is roused, and truth is separated from falsehood. Lastly, 
with the help of the school, the principles of judgment, by 
which hypotheses may be tested and standardized, are them- 
selves lifted into consciousness and criticised, with a correspond- 
ing increase both in availability and accuracy of use. 



Relation of 
the atti- 
tudes of 
originality 
and 
criticism 



Section 31. The cultivation of the rational attitudes 

There remains the cultivation of the rational attitudes, the 
attitude of originality and that of criticism. The one involves 
the power to summon up one's resources in a comprehensive 
way, even though they do not at first sight commend them- 
selves as especially appropriate ; the other means caution and 
the constant sense of need that all decisions should be justified 
by fact and reason, in so far as this is possible. As distin- 
guished from a well-stored mind, an original mind is one that 
has confidence in its possessions, and boldness and energy in 
utilizing them. It is a mind that is capable of getting away 
from the point long enough to see if there are not new and more 
effective ways of hitting it. Thus the secret of originality is 
to be found in wise digression, a digression that is kept from 
mere mind wandering by the constant recurrence of a critical 
attitude that compels the thinker to refer the current of his 
thought back to the problem from which it began. That the 
attitude of originality may be assumed, that of criticism must be 
temporarily in abeyance. That originality may be brought under 
control, the attitude of criticism must forthwith be resumed. 
Thus the two attitudes may work in harmony, and render their 
possessor both brilliant in suggestion and sane in decision. 



The Education of the Reason 



271 



The essence of the attitude hes in certain habits and asso- 
ciated feelings, which, when aroused, stimulate both the imag- 
ination and the judgment. They accomplish this result by- 
directing the attention properly. The feeling accompanying 
the active attack of attention upon any field of experience is 
called interest. Interest is feeling, but that peculiar feeling 
which goes with the forward movement of thought. Atten- 
tion and the associated interest are, in great measure, the 
outcome of certain motor adjustments that throw the mind 
into the attitude most favorable to the perception of certain 
objects, to the recall of experience, or to the analyses and com- 
parisons of reason. These motor adjustments are quite evi- 
dent where attention is turned toward perception through 
the senses. They are not quite so apparent, yet no less un- 
mistakably present, when one concentrates upon a train of 
thought. One composes his mind to reflect. This means the 
activity of a number of habits that shut out distracting stimuli 
and encourage the activity of the brain. 

The motor adjustments through which the attitudes are 
invoked are themselves the habitual responses to certain 
classes of situations. Where it is plainly a matter of vision, 
the eyes are accommodated, and the mind turns toward the 
business of seeing. Where the situation demands the recall of 
a definite past experience, all the adjustments favor the shut- 
ting out of distracting perceptions, the inhibiting of futile 
lines of thought, and the encouragement of such associations 
as seem likely to lead to the desired idea. When one reasons, 
the situation that provokes the attitude is the emergency, the 
problem. Such a situation may become associated with spe- 
cific adjustments that favor adventurous thinking followed by 
sharp criticism. 

The cultivation of the rational attitudes means, then, habit- 
uation in certain adjustments that tend to release the activities 



The attitudes 
based on 
attention 
and inter- 
est, and on 
the motor 
adjust- 
ments 
back of 
these 



Habitual 
character 
of these 
motor ad- 
justments 



272 



Principles of Education 



Method of 
cultivating 
such habits. 
Value of 
the prob- 
lem 



Conditions 
under 
which a 
problem 
excites 
interest. 

Immediate 
and medi- 
ate interest 



of imagination and to protect them against distraction, while 
at the same time they provoke caution, a sense of the business 
in hand, which keeps thought from wandering too far afield 
without at the same time paralyzing its activities. The school 
knows no way of training in these adjustments except by con- 
stantly throwing the child into the situation that requires 
reasoning, and by helping him to realize the value of the atti- 
tudes that favor the getting of results. The reasoning situa- 
tion is the new situation, the emergency, the problem. To cul- 
tivate power to reason the school is wont to cast its work in the 
form of problems to be solved. But to be effective the prob- 
lems must be real, and this requires that, on the one hand, they 
should seem important enough to warrant the effort required for 
their solution, and, on the other, that the child should be able 
to meet them with the knowledge at his command. 

If a problem is regarded as worth while, it at once becomes 
interesting. If it is a problem that admits of immediate so- 
lution by the resources of the child, the interest is called by 
Professor Dewey immediate. If, on the contrary, the in- 
strumentalities by which a problem is to be solved are to be 
mastered only after long effort, the interest in that effort is 
mediate interest. Mediate interest is the interest in work ; 
immediate interest finds its home in activities worth while for 
their own sake. In general, these are represented by play. 
The problems of play are usually simpler than those of work, 
and they do not require such long-continued effort. It fol- 
lows that in work the importance of what is to be done must 
be felt to be great. The rule is that the task must be felt to 
be worth while in proportion to the intensity and the per- 
sistence of the effort it demands in doing things that are merely 
instrumental. In work the issue of motive becomes of prime 
importance. Mediate interest involves more powerful mo- 
tives than does immediate interest. 



The Education of the Reason 



273 



Of course, all work does not take the form of a problem. 
It may not involve any new situation, any summoning of one's 
resources to cope with the unforeseen. But whether it in- 
volves a problem with its appeal to the self-activity of the 
individual, or simply requires mere mechanical drudgery, mo- 
tive is of first importance. To insure a downright assump- 
tion of the reasoning attitude the emergency presented must 
interest, must seem worth while. Moreover, the teacher must 
note that the character of the emergency depends on the di- 
rection of the interest, or on the thing that is regarded as 
worth while. If the real problem is felt to be merely that of 
meeting the requirements of the teacher or of the book, the 
wits of the child may address themselves to quite a different 
set of devices than would pass in review in case this problem 
were interpreted according to the intention of its framer, as 
related to the larger necessities of life and to be taken at its 
face value. In such cases the child studies not to learn about 
something, but to recite in a satisfactory way. The exercises 
in arithmetic become endeavors to get the answer of the book, 
not to find out a fact that has relation to real life. Such prob- 
lems may be called not genuine but counterfeit, for the situa- 
tion with which they face the child is not the one that they are 
supposed to present. 

The use of the problem as the form of educating the reason 
has been especially characteristic of education in modern 
times. It may be said to be the largest outcome of educa- 
tional reform in the direction of method, and its advent means 
the conscious endeavor to give to the child not merely the 
fixed adjustments of recapitulatory education, but also the 
capacity to readjust that springs from reason and its culture. 
In general, the educational principle that has been put forward 
as representing the issue is that learning should stir up the 
self-activity of the child, that the child should learn from his 



Necessity of 
motive in 
work. 
Character 
of the 
problem 
dependent 
on the 
motive 



The use of 
the prob- 
lem in 
modem 
education 



2 74 



Principles of Education 




Self-teaching 
not an ade- 
quate edu- 
cational 
method. 
Two lines 
along 
which 
method 
has been 
improved 



(i) Improve- 
ment of in- 
struction. 
From 
lecture 
to devel- 
opment 



own experience and efforts, not from those of the teacher; in 
other words, that the most effective teaching is self-teaching. 
Stated in its most extreme form without amendment, this 
principle leaves no ground for the work of the teacher and the 
school. We are committed to the negative or "let alone" 
education of Rousseau, at any rate so far as the cultivation 
of rationality is concerned. With such a conception Rous- 
seau himself is inconsistent, as is evidenced by his description 
of the ideal education of Emile. In the endeavor to give posi- 
tive assistance in cultivating the rational attitudes, the school 
has proceeded along two Hnes. On the one hand, it has 
modified old-fashioned methods by which the teacher was 
wont to give instruction, and, on the other, it has changed the 
form of the study of the child. 

From the point of view of the methods of instruction, the 
attempt to cultivate the power to reason has led to the sub- 
stitution for the method of lecture, or of direct imparting of 
information, that of discussion, or better, of development. 
Not that the lecture has been abandoned, but that it has come 
to be felt that any points which can be covered by the ex- 
perience already gained by the pupil should be left to him to 
answer by making use of his resources. Development consists 
essentially in getting a problem before the class, and extracting 
the solution from them. It is the Socratic method, and 
although it is not necessarily founded on the Platonic theory 
that true knowledge is of ideas that are innate and need only 
the proper suggestions in order to be recalled to mind, it does 
assume that very commonly a pupil feels entirely ignorant 
upon a question when in reality he possesses abundant ex- 
perience from which to draw an answer, if only he would use it. 
Such a method is therefore primarily an attempt to stimulate 
the pupil to use his resources. It aims directly at what we 
have called originality, or at that attitude which refuses to 



The Education of the Reason 275 

stand paralyzed when a new situation appears, but immedi- 
ately looks within and sets going the machinery of imagina- 
tion in the confident hope that some adequate solution will 
thereby be found. 

The first effect of the method of development lies in pro- Deveiop- 
voking self-activity, spontaneity, originaHty. On the other ™n"\hotid 
hand, it may and should help to cultivate the critical attitude cultivate 
as well. This result is, however, secondary, and may not be cai atti° 
gained. Herein Hes the principal criticism that is urged "^"^^^ 
against the employment of the method of development. It 
is that such exercises tend to become mere guess work. The 
sting of this objection lies not in the statement that the pupils 
guess, but rather in that it is impHed that this is all they do. 
The development method should aim to cultivate a habit of 
guessing, if by this we mean advancing a tentative answer for 
critical review or experimental verification. But it is, indeed, 
an imperfect method if it does not aim to include in the labor 
of the pupil the task of deliberately subjecting his guess to his 
own judgment or to a test in giving which he himself plays an 
important part. Spontaneity and fertility of suggestiveness 
must be supplemented by caution and careful reflection. A 
class should not be led wholly to rely on the decisions of the 
teacher, but should itself subject its answers to a test of rela- 
tive value. Development should terminate in discussion and 
criticism. Thus the mere guess, or utterly thoughtless and 
inept answer, will be ruled out, and those who indulge in such 
efforts subjected to repressive forces, such as loss of prestige, 
ridicule, etc. The critical attitude should not be cultivated 
so rigorously as to paralyze the confidence, but without proper 
attention to it the method of development becomes very loose 
and slipshod. 

When we turn to methods of learning or study on the part 
of the child, we find that the older requirement of a set task 



276 



Principles of Education 



of memorizing has been largely replaced by exercises that 
present problems which appeal to the intelligence. The sub- 
ject of arithmetic readily came to consist largely of problems 
to be solved rather than tables and rules to be committed to 
memory. The same transformation has gone on to a consid- 
erable degree in other departments of mathematics, with a 
great resulting gain in their effectiveness as agencies for the 
culture of rational attitudes. There is, however, a criticism to 
be made upon much of the problem work in mathematics. 
It is abstract and unreal, and in consequence formal. Couched 
in concrete terms, it yet fails to have real significance to the 
pupil. It does not represent a real situation, but only the pre- 
tense of this. Thus the resources that are evoked to help in 
the solution are the formal stock ideas that spring from the 
textbook rather than from life. Moreover, the criticism is 
formal, so formal that it almost seems as though the critical 
attitude were not assumed. The problem may be utterly 
ridiculous from the point of view of concrete experience, yet 
if it presents a mathematically logical appearance, its absurd- 
ity in other respects will be unnoted. If a class were asked 
how many elephants weighing one hundred and fifty pounds 
each would balance one man weighing two tons, a large pro- 
portion of them would proceed to solve it in all seriousness. 
So long as this is possible, one can say that the problem not only 
fails to connect the arithmetic with life in such a way that it 
will be recalled and used in later real emergencies, but also that 
it fails to cultivate in the broadest way the rational attitudes. 
In linguistic work the tasks of interpretation and translation 
may be said to present problems of study to the pupil, but 
composition possesses the largest possibilities, and has been 
utilized of recent years in connection not only with the study 
of language and literature, but also as a means of putting 
together the results of investigation or thought in practically 



The Education of the Reason 



277 



any field. Essay writing, in which an endeavor is made to 
deal with certain large problems through resources obtained 
from library study, from reflection, or from any other sort of 
research, is unquestionably one of the most fruitful means of 
throwing the child into the reasoning attitudes. However, in 
spite of its remarkable adaptability, the writing of essays 
may degenerate into the most mechanical sort of an exercise. 
Too frequently the topic for the essay is a purely formal one, 
not vitally connected with any living issue in the mind of the 
learner. Compositions are written, not to meet some end for 
which written language is primarily intended, but merely to 
satisfy a schoolroom requirement. Words are strung to- 
gether, but genuine originality and criticism are both lacking, 
because the situation lacks such connection with life beyond 
the school as to make it a real problem. When the composi- 
tions are intended for no eyes except those of the teacher, 
they are especially apt to become formal. In general, essays 
should be concerned with the genuine problem of putting 
before an audience certain results of individual investigation 
in which all are interested. 

Laboratory work in science presents a third important 
method of utilizing the problem in the tasks of the pupil. It 
finds its greatest value not so much because it emphasizes the 
ideas that are learned, as that it helps the reason, first by pre- 
senting the principles in the concrete associations in connec- 
tion with which they are apt to be needed, thus furthering re- 
call, and second, by cultivating the rational attitudes. This 
last advantage does not become great, however, so long as the 
pupil merely follows directions. It is, doubtless, true that our 
laboratories are to-day very largely places of demonstration 
rather than of research. Where this is the case, whatever may 
be said about the value of the knowledge gained, the rational 
attitudes receive no especial encouragement. 



(J) Prob- 
lems of 
transla- 
tion and 
interpreta- 
tion. 
Essay 
writing. 
Danger 
of for- 
malism 



(c) Labora- 
tory work. 
Its values 



278 



Principles of Education 



(i) Con- 
structive 
work. 
Relative 
value of 
this and 
language 
work 



Dominance 
of the 
teacher in 
develop- 
ment work 




Lastly, we may note constructive work as offering a fine op 
portunity for the introduction of the problem. So large a 
part of the work of mankind consists in manual constructions 
that the reformers of to-day have sometimes thought that 
this work should be made central in the school rather than the 
linguistic work which constitutes its traditional core of instruc- 
tion. Working with the hands has been contrasted with 
speech and writing, much to the discredit of the latter. How- 
ever, there can be no doubt that the leading interest of man- 
kind will continue to be that of cooperating with society. For 
this end the humanities constitute the special preparation, 
and hence must far outweigh in importance constructive 
work. It is to be noted that constructive work may consist 
merely in following directions, and hence offer no problem 
to the reason. On the other hand, it lends itself admirably to 
individual tasks in the school, and so to problems in which each 
child is cast upon his own resources. 

When we compare the common difficulties that beset the 
teacher in the use of the method of development with those 
that he encounters in getting children to do independent 
work, we find an interesting contrast. To avoid the omni- 
present danger of uncritical guesswork the teacher is apt to 
develop a point by asking very definite and detailed questions, 
thus keeping the progress of the thought of the class firmly 
in his own grasp. Thereby time is saved, and results are 
gained in the way of covering certain ground that has to be 
mastered. However, the dominance of the teacher in such 
exercises means a corresponding loss of rational attitude on 
the part of the pupil. The questions are too detailed to 
permit free play either to resourcefulness or to judgment. 
The child hangs on the suggestions of the teacher without fac- 
ing any independent problem, and, instead of making up 
his mind on the basis of his own knowledge, waits for the 



The Education of the Reason 279 

dictum that will soon come from the same authoritative 
source. 

On the other hand, in the matter of study, if assignments Difficulty in 
really aim to set the pupil to reasoning, and not merely to selecting 

. -^ problems 

prescribe a certain content to be mechanically mastered, they for study 
are apt to present problems that to the child seem extremely 
large in scope and indefinite in character. The result is that 
study becomes ill directed, uncritical, and results either in 
mere random effort or in mechanical compliance with what- 
ever in the assignment admits of such an attitude. A problem 
is much more difficult to comprehend clearly than the ordinary 
task for memorizing, and it is much easier to know when the 
latter task is completed than to judge accurately regarding a 
solution of the former. Of course, when the results are given 
back to the teacher, his criticisms afford to the pupil a chance 
to see where his efforts were misdirected or inadequate, and 
gradually he may gain power to apprehend what is required in 
the problems assigned him. Yet it is safe to say that a very 
large part of a child's effort at study is hopeless floundering.^ 
This the teacher feels, and as a result relies more and more on 
development lessons as the sole means of cultivating the 
reason, assigning for study merely mechanical lessons. In 
other words, the child's power to think is offered an oppor- 
tunity only in the presence of the teacher and in response to 
detailed problems that afford little scope for the reasoning at- 
titudes. 

The development lesson, therefore, is apt to put the child in Need of cor- 
close dependence upon the leadership of the teacher ; while veiopme'nt 
study assignments are likely to offer problems too indefinite and study 

lessons 

for the child to grasp and treat adequately. What is needed 
is larger problems in development and more definite ones in 

* Compare Earhart, Teaching Children to Study; McMurry, How to Study, 
Ch. I. 



28o Principles of Education 

study. All this requires that the art of selecting and formu- 
lating problems should be the chief concern in the cultivation 
of the rational attitudes. Doubtless, the problem of the de- 
velopment lessons should lead into that of the study lesson, or 
at least help the child to reaHze the character of the latter and 
the sort of effort that it demands. The genuine problem, that 
is, the problem that corresponds to Ufe, should predominate 
over the merely formal problems of the school. Finally, and 
more important than all, the child should be specifically 
trained in the art of study. 
Class instruc- The growth of graded schools and of class instruction, 
thTdedin together with the professional training of teachers along the 
of study lines of method of presentation, have made instruction revolve 
about the efforts of the teacher rather than those of the child. 
Our methods are not as wooden as of yore, yet there is grave 
reason to suspect that they have given the child too little op- 
portunity and need for sustained independent thinking. Re- 
cent emphasis on the art of study by those who have been 
leaders in perfecting the teacher's art of presenting material ^ 
indicate very plainly that the interest in school method is be- 
ginning to turn from methods of teaching to methods of 
learning, from the art of the teacher to that of the child. For 
this result the newer psychology, with its study of methods 
of learning and its emphasis on motive and function, is partly 
responsible. In a larger sense, however, it is the inevitable 
forward tendency, the grappling with the next sequent prob- 
lem in regard to the cultivation of the reason. 
Training in The ucw interest in the art of study should be coupled with 
means ^of^ rcccut cndcavors to segregate the individual from the class, 
segregating and to deal with him apart from the mechanisms by which 
viduai teacher and school must of necessity handle larger groups. 
Whatever device of school management proves most effective 
* Especially Professor F. M. McMurry. 



The Education of the Reason 281 

in enabling the child to be treated as an individual instead of 
as a mere fragment of a class, it is plain that the inculcation of 
the art of study must prove its most important auxiliary. 
For this means that much of the time that to-day is spent on 
the presentation of material to classes can by children trained 
in independent study be quite as profitably given to individual 
work, over which the teacher assumes only general supervision. 
Thus the school will become less a place of teaching classes, and 
more one of directing individuals to do independent work. 
Armed with a larger power of seeing the significance of things, 
the pupil may make the problems of mathematics, of language 
and composition, of the laboratory, and of constructive work 
bear upon the solution of the larger problems of fife. Thus 
the assignment will come to make an intenser appeal to the 
reason and to the independent activity of the pupil. 

The cultivation of the rational attitudes sums itself up, Summary 
then, in training in certain habits or adjustments that with 
their associated feelings project the attention toward the 
mental resources, and suffuse the consequent thinking with a 
sense of its purpose and the importance of a critical adherence 
to it. The feelings that accompany attention are ordinarily 
called interest, which may be classed as immediate in case the 
problem that attention faces admits of an immediate solution, 
or as mediate when it involves work, or the use of persistent 
effort to master instrumentalities not in themselves worth 
while or interesting. Mediate interest demands more intense 
motivation than does immediate interest. To cultivate the 
rational attitudes the school must present problems to the 
child. These will be genuine, interesting, and so lead to rea- 
soning in proportion as they seem worth while, or are con- 
nected with concrete living issues. If we divide the work of the 
school into the instruction of the teacher and the study of the 
child, the problem has been applied in the former by the use 



282 Principles of Education 

of the method of development and discussion, and in the latter 
especially by incorporation in such activities as mathematical 
problems, composition of various kinds, laboratory and con- 
structive work. To save guessing and mind wandering and 
to economize time, teachers have made development consist 
in detailed problems that do little to provoke the rational at- 
titudes. Thus instruction has tended to center about the 
teacher, whose grip on the progress of thought in the classroom 
has done much to organize and clarify thought, but little for 
the cultivation of the rational attitudes. On the other hand, 
the assignment of work for independent study has, from want 
of careful attention, wavered between the indefinite problem 
and the prescription of certain activities to be performed me- 
chanically. The indefinite problem, because it cannot be 
clearly grasped by the pupil and become a source of interest 
to him, gets no standard results satisfactory to the teacher, 
and, in consequence, it tends to be replaced by definite pre- 
scriptions that do not arouse rational attitudes. The desid- 
erata are more careful attention to the nature of the problems 
used in instruction and the formulation and teaching of the 
art of study. The problems of the development lesson need 
to be made larger and connected with those of study. The 
problems of study need to be made definite, and so associated 
with real life as to seem worth while. Finally, the teaching 
of the art of study may be expected to assist in breaking up 
the domination of class teaching, by enabling the child to do 
more effective independent work, thus relieving the teacher 
on the side of presenting material, and enabling more atten- 
tion to the supervision of the work of the individual. These 
changes will all conspire to change the center of school activ- 
ity from the teacher to the child, and to cultivate the rational 
attitudes without impairing the work of storing the mind with 
resources. 



CHAPTER X 

THE QUESTION OF FORMAL DISCIPLINE 

Section 32. The history of the conception of formal discipline 

The idea of formal discipline, or mental training through Formal dis- 
the form of study, is intimately associated with the endeavor t^g g^ect 
to cultivate the reason. The connection of the two may ofthe/om 

of study 

easily be seen when formal discipline is defined. In general, 
it means the supposed effect of study upon the mind entirely 
apart from the content of what is learned. This effect is con- 
ceived to be so great and so important that many teachers 
say that it does not matter so much what we study, since the 
vital thing is Jiow we study. The supposed significance of dis- 
ciplinary effects springs from the fact that they are thought 
to be general in character rather than merely specific. For 
example, the study of Latin is held to give more than the 
power of feeling at home in its vocabulary and constructions, 
and so of being able to learn new Latin more readily. This 
further gain is found in a culture of one's powers of observa- 
tion, memory, reasoning, criticism, one's sense of the values 
and uses of words. So, too, manual training is disciplinary, 
not merely in that it teaches how to plane and saw and how to 
fit joints accurately, but also in that through it, as is thought, 
the hand acquires a general dexterity, the eye a keenness, and 
the mind a clearness and a sense of the value of accuracy that 
are useful not only in carpentering, but also in watchmaking 
or in playing tennis or, indeed, in any business or profession. 
Now when we mean by formal training not only the ac- 

283 



284 



Principles of Education 



quisition of specific habits useful in connection with certain 
lines of thought or action, but also a general increase in power, 
it is evident that we have in mind a culture the especial value 
of which lies in that it enables the mastery of the new, the un- 
expected. The significance of general mental discipline lies 
in that it trains a faculty supposed to be independent of sub- 
ject matter, and hence applicable to all the unpredictable 
emergencies of life. In brief, formal discipline is held to cul- 
tivate the power of conscious learning, of thinking, or of 
reasoning. Indeed, it may be said that in the past this sort of 
training has constituted the leading method by which the 
school has striven to increase general mental power. 

If we refer to the analysis of the education of the reason con- 
tained in the last chapter, it is evident that formal discipline 
does not concern all the factors involved. By virtue of being 
formal, it disclaims any attempt to enhance the resources of 
thinking or to build up standards of judgment. Only in the 
cultivation of the attitude can it find a function. These at- 
titudes are, as we have seen, based on definite mental and 
motor adjustments that the individual may be trained to make. 
However, the discipHnarians have not regarded the gain from 
their sort of education to be limited to the power to take these 
attitudes. They have assumed that discipline affects not only 
the power to call up one's resources and to be critical, not only 
the mastery of certain methods that make possible a most 
efficient use of one's mental power and experience, but also 
mental power itself. They have been prone to think that 
they were cultivating mental faculties, the functioning of 
which is independent of specific attitudes or habits. 

The notion of formal discipline has, therefore, associated 
itself quite consistently with the so-called "faculty theory." 
This theory has already been considered in connection with 
the subject of Recapitulation, and need not here be described. 



The Question of Formal Discipline 285 



Suffice it to say t , when observation, memory, reasoning, 
judgment, and will are supposed to be perfectly general facul- 
ties that can busy themselves equally well with any sort of 
content, the inference is inevitable that the increase in one of 
these faculties by training in any specific field will show itself 
without loss when the faculty is directed toward a different 
material. The faculty theory bids us search for the energy 
of the mind not in its experience, the living force of its ideas, 
but in the manipulating power of certain abstract agencies, 
that express themselves in clutching and transforming the 
material that experience presents to the mind. On this as- 
sumption, it is perfectly logical for the educator to assume 
that it is far more important to strive to develop the efficiency 
of these powers than to store the mind with material. If 
education can improve general abilities, it is evident that this 
is what it should, in the main, aim to do. The merely in- 
formed mind is bound to the special province of its informa- 
tion. Within these Hmits it shows power. But the disciplined 
mind is conceived to possess general superiority. One can 
get information on any topic when needed, but he cannot thus 
on occasion get the power that comes from training. Informa- 
tion gives the mind material that it may, provided it possesses 
the natural talent, use in certain cases. Discipline is thought 
to improve that natural talent itself. 

Now while the faculty theory does not of necessity involve 
one in the behef that the faculties can be given general disci- 
pline, the two ideas go together, and in history they have al- 
most if not quite invariably been held in conjunction. What- 
ever supports the faculty theory has been regarded as an 
argument for general discipline, and, vice versa, the apparent 
existence of general discipHne has been taken to substantiate 
the faculty theory. 

Two main classes of facts lead to the conception of mental 



Connection 
of the idea 
of formal 
discipline 
with the 
"faculty 
theory" 



286 



Arguments 
for the 
"faculty 
theory" 



Question as 
to whether 
general 
power can 
be im- 
proved 
by culture 



faculties : firsi, the mental ^.UiicrLntcs ;. ,cween men and men, 
and men and brutes ; second, the m<ithod by which sensations 
are obtcuned, In regard lo the first class, we note that in- 
dividuals and species d>6:er fror;;. each other in the quaHty of 
the; miiids. j'he effect of experience depends in every case 
upon the mental ability of the one who experiences. Here, 
at any rate, we have a perfectly general power, not a result of 
culture, but rather aii'.ecedent to it and a condition of its pos- 
sibility. The fu' t • of sensation tend to suggest that this 
general ability may be specialized into faculties. We see not 
merely because there are objects to be seen, but because we 
have the apparatus for vision. Having eyes and a brain, we 
possess the possibility of seeing many things. It is natural to 
suppose that, just as the power of sensation rests back on the 
general effectiveness of the apparatus of sense, so the power 
of thinking depends upon the general effectiveness of memory, 
reasoning, judgment, etc. ; that is, upon the faculties. 

It is further evident that whatever improves the general 
ability creates a new type of individual, just as whatever im- 
proves the eye adds to the general effectiveness of vision, etc. 
However, it may not be possible by education to improve 
native talent or imperfect eyes. Indeed, it is likely that cul- 
ture is Hmited to the mere process of selecting among the po- 
tentialities of growth those that should be encouraged in order 
to insure specific adaptation to prevailing conditions. In 
that event, one may hold to the faculty theory, at least in one 
form, and yet not regard disciplinary effects as general. Edu- 
cation may simply consist in direction, such as permits native 
power to develop along the most effective Hues. 

On the other hand, if we compare the intelligence of edu- 
cated and uneducated men when placed in similar situations, 
the view that on the average the former have greater general 
ability seems almost unavoidable. Historically the educated 



The Question of Formal Discipline 287 



classes show the greatest vigor of mind. College graduates 
average better success in life than those who have not enjoyed 
their educational advantages. It seems fairly evident that the 
educated man is likely to deal better with a situation concerning 
which he has no special experience than is an uneducated one. 
It is, however, by no means certain, as is commonly assumed, 
that the general superiority of the educated classes is due to 
their education. It is quite possible to suppose that their 
abihty, so far from being a result of their education, is the 
reason for it. Only those of intellectual power can take in an 
elaborate culture. It may be that college graduates tend to 
succeed, not because their college education betters their 
natural talent, but solely because of their original endowment, 
which, among other things, enabled them to get a college 
education, — something that the traditions of society regard as 
highly desirable. Undoubtedly, well-educated men constitute 
a class selected for native ability. Hence we might expect 
them to succeed better than the great mass, a very large por- 
tion of whom are uneducated because of incapacity. 

However questionable the faculty theory may be, and how- 
ever doubtful the common arguments for a general discipHne 
of the mental powers, it is evident that these notions have 
prevailed from the beginning of attempts at psychological 
analysis. They, therefore, lie ready to hand for emergencies 
when they are needed as a defense for courses of study the 
specific value of which is not apparent. In general, we may 
distinguish three causes for the existence of such curricula. In 
the first place, the school is apt to be conservative, to cherish 
its own. Schoolmasters are wedded to their subjects. In the 
second place, the curriculum that meets a real demand in one 
age may grow obsolete in the next, and the schoolmaster may 
be forced on the defensive to justify his practices. Finally, 
as society advances, since progress becomes more swift and 



The superior 
ability of 
educated 
men not 
shown to 
be due to 
training 



Formal 
discipline 
as a de- 
fense of 
subjects of 
doubtful 
utility 



288 Principles of Education 

social relations more flexible, it becomes increasingly difficult 
to predict for the boy his career as a man, and so the school 
finds it constantly harder to select a suitable curriculum. It 
is easy to train for the definite; difficult, if not impossible, to 
train for that the exact nature of which we cannot foresee. 

The disciplinary argument may be used to defend an anti- 
quated program, and to excuse the school from the task of 
finding a curriculum that in its content can be shown to be best 
adapted to composite and rapidly changing fife. If the mere 
exercise of the faculties improves them, then it does not matter 
whether the course of study be out of date ; the important 
thing is whether it is hard, whether it exercises the mind. 
Moreover, it is not worth while to bother about trying to fore- 
cast the uncertain careers of the pupils, since, whatever they 
do, they will need above all the mental ability which discipline 
may be expected to give them. The belief in formal discipline 
saves the school much anxiety and laborious effort. 

One of the most striking instances of the use of the discipli- 
nary argument is as a justification of the classical secondary 
program which we owe to the Renaissance. As Latin drifted 
curriculum more and more out of usage, and new literatures expanded, 
as the ancient culture ever lost ground before the achievements 
of the newer fife, or, becoming assimilated therewith, ceased 
to require so much special training of those who would utilize 
its spirit, but wished if possible to avoid the labor of mastering 
its form, the schoolmen found in the notion of the training of 
the faculties a bulwark of defense against a practical world. 
Thus their beloved specialties, which had absorbed most of 
their spiritual life, and which they were skilled to teach, gained 
a recommendation for men who saw in their content no utility. 

In the last century the disciplinary argument grew to be the 
leading support of existing educational practices. Youmans, 
advocating in 1867 the reorganization of the program of study 



The Question of Formal Discipline 289 

in secondary and collegiate education in order that more 
science might be introduced, says : ^ — 

''The adherents of the traditional system . . , maintain 
that knowledge is to be acquired not on account of its capability 
of useful application, but for its own intrinsic interest, that 
the purpose of a liberal education is not to prepare for a voca- 
tion or profession, but to train the intellectual faculties. They, 
therefore, hold that Mental Discipline is the true object of a 
higher culture, and that for its attainment the study of the 
ancient classics and mathematics is superior to all other 
means." 

Again the Emperor of Germany said in 1892, regarding the 
advocates of the existing program in the classical gymnasia : — 

"If any one enters into a discussion with these gentlemen 
on this point and attempts to show him that a young man ought 
to be prepared, to some extent at least, for life and its manifest 
problems, they will tell him that such is not the function of the 
school, its principal aim being the discipline or gymnastic of 
the mind, and that if this gymnastic were properly conducted, 
the young man would be capable of doing all that is necessary 
in life." 

In the progress of time psychology, which in its earliest state Historic 
assumed the faculty theory and countenanced the idea of formal \^ ^^^^ 
discipline, broke away from both. Even Locke, who by Pro- faculty 
fessor Monroe ^ is taken as the typical disciplinarian, questions 
the possibility of a general training of the memory.^ The first 
outspoken rebellion against the faculty theory was that of 
Herbart. However, the way for Herbartianism was prepared 
by Kant. This philosopher, although in the distinction be- 
tween his Critiques of Understanding, Judgment, and Practical 
Reason, or Will, he gave a new formulation of the faculty 

* Culture demanded by Modern Life: Mental Discipline in Education. 

* Textbook in the History of Education, 
' Thoughts on Education. 

u 



290 



Principles of Education 



(i) Kant's 
a priori 
forms as 
a substi- 
tute for 
faculties 



theory, nevertheless, paved the way for a new theory of mind 
in his conception of the a priori elements in experience. Ac- 
cording to the notion of the faculties, the sorts of consciousness 
are results of the manipulation by these inner powers of the 
material given by sense. To observe means to discriminate 
the data of sense by separating them from each other. To 
remember is to retain them. Comparison, abstraction, associ- 
ation, reasoning, judgment, add nothing to sensation. They 
micrely arrange the materials of sense in a different manner; 
manufacture it, as it were, into new forms. But, according to 
Kant, experiencing means that the mind is contributing to the 
objects of consciousness something that is definitely recogniz- 
able therein. Perception is not merely sensation plus the 
reproduction of such experience as gives it meaning. It is 
the organization of the manifold of sensation by forms that 
enter into its constitution, transforming into experience what 
would otherwise not be consciousness at all. Mental activity 
is synthetic, not merely analytic. It adds to sensation space, 
time, causal relationship, in short, all the categories by which 
relationship may be expressed. They are the warp of expe- 
rience, and the material coming from the senses is the woof. 
But as both warp and woof are thread, so one might readily 
say of the form of experience that it too is content, having a 
somewhat different nature and function from the stuff that it 
organizes and transforms into experience. The Kantian a 
-priori form is not an abstraction that intelligence analyzes out 
of its objects. Rather it is a positive factor that a synthetic 
mind adds to its content, as the breath of life that makes it 
real experience. 

Now while Herbart rejects the Kantian notion of the 
a priori forms, he clings to the view that mental activity is not 
the manipulation of a mental content, but is rather the fusion 
of content elements themselves. He holds that what lifts the 



ll 



The Question of Formal Discipline 291 



as yet unapprehended idea into the region of consciousness is 
the force of other kindred ideas that are already in this realm. 
To attend one must apperceive, and apperception is not, as 
with Kant, the organization of a content by an a priori form, 
but the attention to new ideas because they are related to old 
ones. Such attention is coincident with interest and compre- 
hension. Ideas that have no meaning cannot rouse interest 
or attention. It is the fusion of old meanings with new objects 
that elevates them into consciousness. This is apperception, 
— a meeting, not of a content with a form which is essentially 
different from it, though capable of fusing with it, but rather 
of one content with other contents, having the same general 
nature and origin, but differing in possessing the advantage 
of being before attention. 

Thus according to Herb art we have, not the mind and its 
ideas, but rather just the ideas. The ideas do the thinking. 
The interplay of thoughts upon each other is the activity of 
consciousness. Hence, there are no faculties left. Herbart 
saves the terminology that refers to them, but with the caution 
that it is intended to indicate various phases of the interaction 
of ideas upon each other, and not in any sense separate powers 
of a mind to the energies of which this interaction is supposed 
to be due. With the faculty theory departs the notion of 
formal discipline, which has no place in the pedagogy of Her- 
bart, or in that of his disciples. For them the fundamental 
educational conception is not discipline but apperception. v 
The important thing for a teacher to know is, not how well 
drilled a child is, how well his faculties may be expected to 
work, but what experience he has assimilated. This exploited, 
it can easily be seen what material the child will be interested 
in, understand, and assimilate. Mental power is a function of 
the organized experience of the individual. Organization is 
inherent in the material itself, and not a result of its manipu- 



Consequent 
rejection 
of formal 
discipline 



292 



Principles of Education 



Practical 
effect of 
Herbar- 
tianism in 
regard to 
formal 
discipline 



Formal dis- 
cipline as 
a defense 
of any 
program 



lation by a mind, or of the imposition upon it of a priori forms. 
Since form is dependent upon content, all studies are really 
content studies, and it is idle to talk of the disciplinary value 
that their form possesses independently of their subject matter. 

But the influence of Herbartianism was not primarily thrown 
into a resolute attempt to reform the curriculum, — except 
as it is seen in the culture-epoch theory. In the main, the 
Herbartians strove to improve and rationalize method, and 
only incidentally to enrich the course of study. Herbart him- 
self valued highly both classics and mathematics ; and although 
this estimate was based on a regard for their content, it is only 
natural that the implications of his view in reference to that 
favorite defense of such work, their disciplinary value, should 
have been neglected because of his advocacy of the subjects 
themselves. Moreover, the influence of Herbartianism has 
been rather restricted. In consequence, the disciplinary 
theory grew and flourished, until new educational conditions 
arose to minimize its importance, and a new psychology, of 
which Herbart may, perhaps, be regarded as the original ex- 
positor, came to attack again the faculty theory upon which 
the conception of formal discipline is founded, and to question 
through its experiments the facts assumed by the theory itself. 

The educational condition that forced the doctrine of formal 
discipline into a subordinate position was the actual admission 
of new subjects into the curriculum, at first mainly for their 
content and their utiHty. In order to maintain and, if possible, 
to increase the ground thus gained, the advocates of the newer 
studies insisted that these were just as valuable for discipline 
as the old ones. Thus science availed itself of the principal 
weapon of the classics, and urged its superiority for the reasons 
that it furnishes just as good discipline as they, if not better, 
and that it is far more valuable for the utility of its content. 
Such is the view of Spencer and of Huxley and of the defenders 



The Question of Formal Discipline 293 

of science generally, as well as of those large-minded educators 
like Barnard, who, while appreciating the value of the classical 
culture, felt the need of a broader curriculum in order to keep 
pace with the progress of science and the arts of Hfe. More- 
over, just as the notion of discipline was utilized to defend 
the new as well as the old subjects, so it came to be utilized 
in the service of the elective system as well as in that of pre- 
scription. The defenders of the old required course urged that 
any deviation from its standard materials would leave a gap 
in the mental training of the young. Some powers would in 
that case not be properly developed. On the other hand, 
those who favored, as does President Eliot, the scheme of elec- 
tion were insistent on the view that one subject will furnish as 
good discipline as another, provided it is properly studied. 

Thus compelled to fight on both sides of every vital question, (3) Appiica- 
the notion of formal discipline fell into decline. As a weapon perfmenr 
with which to win a decided victory, it ceased to have any to the 
value, and it retained the sole function of clouding the atmos- 
phere, that a losing side might escape in the confusion thus 
brought about, or perhaps, resorting to other devices than 
reason, win by strategem what could not be gained in open 
fight. There remained for the psychologist the task of dis- 
lodging the conception from this doubtful position, and of 
either justifying and resuscitating it, or of forcing it into the 
limbo of rejected hypotheses. On this last stage of the history 
of the theory we have now entered, and, although most psychol- 
ogists would refuse to admit that the question is in any sense 
settled, yet much has been done that we may now proceed 
briefly to review. 

To recapitulate : the desire to preserve in the school subjects Summary 
the content of which is not closely related to the current life, 
and the difficulty of finding just what subjects are best fitted 
to prepare for life in an individualistic and progressive civili- 



294 Principles of Education 

zation, have combined to cause the schoolmaster to resort to 
the idea of discipline through the form of study. Such disci- 
pline is supposed to arise from any subject when it is well 
studied, and to afford mental power that can be utilized in 
any kind of an emergency. Since the disciplinary theory is a 
natural outcome of the faculty theory, the abandonment of 
that view by Herbart in favor of his "content" theory of mind 
led to the rejection of the notion of the discipline of the faculties. 
Modern psychology has, in general, followed the Herbartian 
view, but, nevertheless, the disciplinary argument has been 
retained. It has lost ground, because it has been found to be 
equally useful to defend any program of study where the mind 
is set to work. Finally, it has been attacked by the experi- 
mentaHsts. 

Section 33. Criticism of formal discipline by recent psychology 

Native abii- The disappearance of the faculty theory cut the theoretical 
gra^rr 0/ foundation from beneath the belief in formal discipline. But 
special the uotiou was supported by much direct evidence. It re- 
mained for recent psychology to call this evidence in question, 
and to endeavor to ascertain the exact facts by careful experi- 
mentation. We may first consider the preliminary phase of this 
discussion. On the one hand, men have noticed that certain 
individuals whose powers of observation were good in certain 
fields seemed similarly gifted when they came to attend to the 
facts in other fields. The all-round ability in observation of 
an Aristotle or of a Darwin is a characteristic that seemed to 
be repeated on a lesser scale in many men whom we meet. 
On the other hand, it is no less common to find men who possess 
great powers of observation in certain fields, and seem in others 
to be singularly unable to note the facts before them. The 
specialist in botany who sees plants, but is oblivious to the 



The Question of For^nal Discipline 295 

facts of human nature; the tailor who notes the character of our 
garments, but fails to see anything else about us; the business 
man who travels abroad and sees nothing of art or history or 
quaint custom, but attends only to the quality of the transpor- 
tation, the hotel service, or the business methods, — all illus- 
trate this notorious characteristic of human nature. So, too, 
there are men like Macaulay with excellent memories for all 
sorts of facts, while others seem to remember well only those 
in one or at most a few special fields. I have in mind the case 
of a boy who was subnormal in power of retention in regard 
to his school studies. However, he had a very fair, indeed, to 
many observers, apparently a very good memory for baseball 
records. Even in reasoning, where one might expect the spe- 
cialization of ability to be least in evidence, we can place be- 
side those Caesarian types whose versatility is so extraordinary 
the inventor who is fleeced by the scheming promoter, and the 
typical lack of critical sense of the business man when he faces 
a problem of pure science. So, too, in regard to will, the fairly 
consistent Rooseveltian type may be opposed by that of those 
men whose decision and resolution in some emergencies are 
replaced by vacillation in others. Finally, one may be punc- 
tual at business and irregular at meals, conscientious in return- 
ing calls and careless in answering letters, and so on indefinitely. 
Thus it would seem that powers of observation, memory, 
judgment, and will may be either general or special, and that 
habits may apply to many situations or only to one. 

Such ambiguities leave it possible to suppose that native Ordinary ob- 
ability may be general or special, and that the effects of training no7ev)den 
may similarly be both. Considering all these facts of obser- tiaiof 
vation, together with that of the general intellectual superiority dpiinary'^ 
of the educated classes discussed in the last section, it seems effects 
that the hypothesis that native ability tends to be general, 
while the effects of training are specific, is quite as plausible 



296 



Prmciples of Education 



Classes of ex- 
perimentsj 



Experiments 
of Volk- 
mann and 
others 



Transference 
of practice 
effects to 
symmetri- 
cal parts 
due to 
identity of 
function 
and control 



as any other. So far as ordinary uncritical observation is 
concerned, therefore, there seems no clear evidence for general 
disciplinary efifects. It remains for scientifically guarded obser- 
vation and experiment to determine for or against its existence. 

The experimentation on this matter may be reviewed under 
the following headings : (i) the effect of training certain mus- 
cles and sensory surfaces upon bilaterally symmetrical ones ; 
(2) the effect of special training on the general accuracy and 
rapidity (a) of discriminations or estimates made by the 
senses, (6) of motor adjustments, or (c) of memorizing ; (3) the 
effect of special habits on general behavior. 

(i) Efect of training certain muscles and sensory surfaces 
upon bilaterally symmetrical ones. Experiments by Volkmann ^ 
show that when skin of the left arm is trained to discriminate 
touches that are so near that they were at first confused, the 
skin of neighboring areas and also of the right arm makes 
similar, although not proportionate, gain. Other experimenters 
discovered that as training of one arm improved its grip, the 
grip of the other became stronger ; ^ as the right toe was trained 
to tap more quickly, the left toe and both the hands showed 
some quickening in speed in this exercise ; as the right arm 
gained through practice the power to lift a certain weight more 
times or to strike a target more accurately with a foil ^ or to 
hit a dot,^ the left showed considerable if not equal improve- 
ment. 

Professor Thorndike ^ regards these cases as not properly 
instances of the spread of special training, because the influ- 
ence of bilaterally symmetrical halves of the body upon each 
other constitutes a "very peculiar case." It is to be noted 



^ Bericht der Kgl. Sack. Ges. d. Wiss., Math.-phys. CI., il 

2 Yale Studies, Vol. II. 

» IhU., Vols. VI and VIII. 

* Psych. Rev., Mon. Supplement, No. 13, p. 105. 

' Educational Psychology, pp. 87-88. 



i, X, 38. 



The Question of Formal Discipline 297 

that we do not have different things done by different organs, 
or even by the same organ, but rather practically the same 
thing done by organs which, because they are symmetrical, 
are practically identical in function and control. Hence, we 
can scarcely speak of the development of any general power. 
However, in so far as there is any evidence of generalization, 
it is plain that it depends upon the presence of "identical ele- 
ments" to be discriminated by different parts of the same sense 
organ, or of identical methods of control over different but 
very similar associated muscles. 

(2-a) Effect of special training on the general rapidity and 
accuracy of discriminations and estimates made hy the senses. 
Thorndike and Woodworth ^ found that improvement in dis- Experiments 
criminating words containing the letters e and s brought with dike and 
it improvement of ^o per cent as much in the speed of discrim- Wood- 

, . . . , , worth 

matmg words contammg i and / or s and p, etc., or misspelled 
words, or the letter ^ in a list of letters. There was also a gain 
in accuracy, but only 25 per cent of that in the practice work. 
Training in perceiving Enghsh verbs, which reduced the time 
of discrimination and the number of omissions, made it pos- 
sible to discriminate other parts of speech 3 per cent more 
quickly than before, but there was a large increase in the 
number omitted, showing positive interference. Forty-four 
per cent of the improvement resulting from practice in esti- 
mating the areas of rectangles was shown in the power to esti- 
mate the areas of rectangles of the same general size, but of a 
different shape, and 30 per cent of this original practice effect 
remained when the size was increased but the shape retained. 
Curiously enough, when there was both increase in size and 
change in shape, the transfer of improvement was most marked, 
being 52 per cent of the original gain. Improvement in the 
power to estimate weights resulted in 39 per cent as much 
1 Psych. Rev., Vol. Vm.J 



298 



Principles of Education 



Transference 
in sensory 
discrimina- 
tion de- 
pendent on 
"identical" 
elements 



Experiments 
of Coover 
and Angell. 
Similar 
results 



gain in power to estimate heavier ones, while practice in esti- 
mating the lengths of lines failed to produce an invariable 
gain in the ability to estimate longer and shorter ones. 

Professor Thorndike ascribes the transfer of practice eflfects 
m these experiments to "(i) the acquisition during special 
training of ideas of method and of general utility, and also (2) 
of faciHty with certain elements that appeared in many other 
complexes." An '' instance of (i) is learning . . . that one 
has a tendency to overestimate all areas, and consciously 
making a discount for this tendency, ... of (2) is the uni- 
form increase in speed of eye movements in all the tests 
through training in one, an increase of speed often gained at 
the expense of accuracy." 

Coover and Angell ^ discovered that training in tone dis- 
crimination produced a beneficial effect upon the discrimina- 
tion of shades of color. The causes of this transference they 
sum up as, (a) "The formation of a habit of reacting directly 
to a stimulus without useless kinsesthetic acoustic and motor 
accompaniments of recognition, which results in (6) an equitable 
distribution of attention to the various possible reactions 
so as to be about equally prepared for all ; and (c) the conse- 
quent power of concentrating the attention throughout the 
whole series without distraction." 

It will be seen that the general improvement here lies in a 
strengthening of the ability to attend. Professor Angell, 
commenting again ^ on these experiments and their signifi- 
cance, seem.s to regard this improvement as largely to be ex- 
plained by "the habituation which is afforded in neglecting 
or otherwise suppressing unpleasant or distracting sensations. 
We learn to 'stand it' in short." This power, he thinks, may 
be derived from attention to the classics and be transferred 
to other difficult tasks in life. 



'nai oj Fsych., 1)07, n. 32S. 



rd. Rev., June, 1908. 



The Question of Formal Discipline 299 

(2-J) The efect of special training on the general rapidity Motor ad- 
and accuracy of motor adjustments. It will be observed that in so^fa^Tot 
the experiments of Thorndike and Woodworth, and of Angell involved 
and Coover the motor reactions, except as they contribute to 
more accurate discrimination, are comparatively unimportant. 
It is true that, where rapidity of discrimination as well as 
accuracy are in question, the attempt to discriminate quickly 
might tangle up the motor machinery involved in the responses, 
and errors due to this confusion might be ascribed to false 
perception. However, since there is only one response to each 
element discriminated, unless this is a new and as yet not 
thoroughly learned reaction it will probably follow a sufficiently 
clear perception without diflEiculty. But these reactions consist 
merely in crossing out words or in naming or estimating by well- 
known words. Therefore, the experiments test discrimination 
rather than motor adjustment. 

Professor Judd gives an experiment^ in which the latter Judd's ex- 
factor is concerned. The person tested was required to place on"piadng 
a pencil which he held in his hand in the same direction as lines ^ P^^'^^ii. 

, . . . rr-ii Interfer- 

which were exposed momentarily to his vision. The hand and ence 
the arm were concealed from his view, so that the eyes were 
unable to observe directly errors in placing the pencil. It 
was found that fuller visual experience with one of the lines led 
to a more accurate placing of the pencil in its direction. When, 
after this practice, the other lines were shown as at first, it 
was found that there was improvement in the representation 
where the original error had been in the same direction as that 
of the practice line, but the representations of other lines grew 
worse. Thus Professor Judd concludes that the results of 
practice can be transferred, and that the effect may be improve- 
ment or interference. Moreover, since subsequent practice 
by the fuller exposure of one of the misrepresented lines failed 
^ Ed. Rev., June, 1908. 



300 Principles of Education 

to produce improvement, the experimenter thinks that a habit 
had been formed that resisted the effects of further practice. 
Experiments on geometrical illusions showed that when the 
subject was aware of improvement in correcting the illusion 
and of its reasons, he found it possible to overcome this inter- 
ference when an illusion of an opposite character was set before 
him. When, however, such knowledge was absent, the ten- 
dency toward interference remained as a fixed habit. 
Interference In Judd's first experiment the sensory factors and their 
due to (i) jneaning in terms of the reaction are not clearly apprehended 
discrimi- by the subject. He gets a better view of the practice line, 
proper sen- ^^^ ^^^^ hclps him in a vague way to place the pencil better. 
sory cue to The reason for interference lies in the fact that, so far as the 

a reaction ;,. . pini • iiii 

or subject perceives or feels, all the representations should be 

corrected in the same way. Interference plainly arises where 
in new situations the sensory cue that should lead to a different 
reaction is not apprehended. It may also appear where the 
same sensory suggestion is now to be responded to by a dif- 
ferent reaction. As the former case is illustrated in the experi- 
ments of Judd, so the latter appears in those of Bergstrom.^ 
(2) change in Bergstrom studied the interference of certain habits with 
this sen- ^^ ability to perform opposed acts. He used a pack of eighty 
as seen in cards, cach having a picture on its face. Each picture appeared 
strom^s^ «c- ^^ eight of the cards. The experiment consisted in sorting the 
periments, cards according to the pictures, and then in re-sorting them, 
placing each pile in a different position from the one it occupied 
at first. In the beginning, the re-sorting took more time than 
the original act. This interference tends to decrease with the 
more extended practice in sorting the piles in the various posi- 
tions. 
Munsterberg^ experimented on the effect of changing his 

^ Amer. Journal of Psych., VI, p. 433. 
^ Geddchtnisstudien, Teil I, Heft 4, 1892. 



The Question of Formal Discipline 301 



watch from one pocket to the other. Whenever such a change 
was made, there followed a period during which the hand would 
unconsciously fumble in the wrong pocket in the endeavor 
to take out the watch. With practice in the interchange, 
however, the rapidity of readjustment to a different position 
of the watch was greatly increased. Similar results were 
obtained from the interchange of two inkwells, one full, the 
other empty, which were placed on the table where he was 
writing; also by locking now one, now another of the two doors 
by which he could enter his office. Thus, he concludes, the 
power to substitute for one habit an opposed one can be im- 
proved by practice. 

In so far as new reactions contain elements identical with 
some appearing in old ones, they may be facilitated by the 
power previously acquired. Bair^ found that practice in 
copying on a typewriter a series of letters in which only six 
distinct letters were used improved one's power to copy 
another series of equal length made up of a different set of 
letters or figures. The keys of the typewriter were capped so 
as to place any symbol on any key, and thus the effect of pre- 
vious familiarity with the machine was eliminated from the 
experiment. He also found that practice in repeating the 
alphabet with the letter n spoken after each letter increased the 
power to repeat it with the letter x or the letter r thus intro- 
duced. 

(2-c) The efect of special training on the general rapidity and 
accuracy of memorizing. We notice here first the observations 
of Professor James,^ — a contribution that may be said to 
have initiated the experimental phase of the discussion of formal 
discipline. He found that, after practice in committing to 
memory parts of Book I of Paradise Lost, his power to memo- 

^ Psych. Rev., Mon. Supplement, No. 19. 
* Principles of Psych., Vol. I, p. 667. 



(6) Mun- 
sterberg's 
experi- 
ments 



Transference 
where re- 
actions 
have com- 
mon ele- 
ments. 
Bair's ex- 
periments 



James's ex- 
periments 
on practice 
in memor- 
izing. 
Improve- 
ment 

in memory 
due to 
better 
methods 



302 



Principles of Education 



Confirmation 
of this view 
in (i) ex- 
periments 
of Ebert 
and Meu- 
mann; 



(2) experi- 
ments of 
Fracker ; 



rize other verses seemed to have decreased. Three other 
subjects noted an insignificant gain as a result of practice, 
while a fourth suffered a similar loss. He concludes, "All 
improvement of memory consists in the improvement of one's 
habitual method of recording the facts." 

Ebert and Meumann ^ found that practice in committing 
to memory nonsense syllables, in the course of which an en- 
deavor was made to discover which methods of learning were 
most economical, effected constant improvement in the power 
to learn and to retain series of nonsense syllables, letters, words, 
and lines of poetry or of prose. The amount of improvement 
was in a general way proportional to the similarity between the 
test material and the practice material. The observations of 
the subjects of the experiments seemed to indicate that they 
would explain the increase in power to the discovery of what 
to each was his most efiSicient method of memorizing, and the 
gradual elimination of the other devices. Thus the theoretical 
view of James would be confirmed, although Ebert and Meu- 
mann were incHned to credit the existence of something that 
might be called general improvement of the memory. 

Another very careful, prolonged, and somewhat complicated 
research "On the Transference of Training in Memory" is 
that of Dr. Fracker.^ He found that practice in committing 
to memory the order of four tones gradually led to an improve- 
ment in the power to remember poetry, the order of presenta- 
tion of four shades of gray, of nine tones, of nine shades of gray, 
of nine geometrical figures, of nine numbers, and of the extent 
of arm movements. The improvement was neither uniform 
nor invariable. He concludes that his results are in accord 
with those of James, "inasmuch as all the factors we have 
discovered have to do with methods." He considers improve- 

^ Arch. f. d. gcsam. Psych., Vol. IV, p. i. 

2 Psych. Rev., Mon. Supplement, Vol. IX, No. 2. 



The Question of Formal Discipline 303 



ment "to depend upon the consistent use of some form of 
imagery, whether it is the most advantageous or not." In 
further summary he says : — 

"Imagery may be subconsciously developed, but if it comes 
to be consciously recognized, the improvement is more rapid. 
The rate of improvement seems to depend directly upon the 
conscious recognition of imagery and upon attention to its 
use." 

"A change in imagery during practice increases the rapidity 
of the improvement, if a better form is adopted and adhered to. 
It may prevent improvement if a change of imagery is frequent, 
or if a less adequate form is adopted." 

In concluding this sketch of experiments on memory, we 
might note the results of Winch^ with British school children. 
After testing three classes of children of different social standing 
in power to commit to memory poetry, he divided each into 
two groups of equal abiHty. One division was trained by 
being required to commit to memory one hundred words of 
poetry. A second test showed 10 per cent more improvement 
on the part of this group than on that of the untrained one. 
This large gain from a small amount of practice is, doubtless, 
the sudden accession of power that comes from a few funda- 
mental advances in method. It may be profitably contrasted 
with the results of the experiments of James, with whose sub- 
jects, doubtless, the methods of memorizing had been fairly well 
exploited before the experimentation began. Thus in training 
the memory, as in training the senses or the motor powers, 
the general improvement rests back upon identical elements 
in the practice and the test material. Whenever similar situ- 
ations recur, a recognition of their similarity leads to a utili- 
zation in the new cases of the reactions found advantageous 
in the older ones. A specific task of memorizing, such as is 



(3) experi- 
ments of 
Winch. 
Greater 
chance for 
improve- 
ment in 
children 
than in 
older per- 
sons 



^ Briiish Journal of Psych., Vol. II, p. 284. 



304 



Principles of Education 



Bagley's 
experi- 
ment 



Identical ele- 
ments as 
involving 
both tlie 
content 
and the 
form of 
situations 



involved in each of these experiments, is a case where the simi- 
larity is, as it were, forced upon the attention. Hence all the 
devices that can be transferred are in each test definitely 
summoned forth, and improvement is, to say the least, likely, 
xmless at the initiation of the experiments the subject was 
already a master of methods of memorizing. And even 
masters can learn! 

(3) The efect of special habits on general behavior. Under 
this very large heading I will recount only one simple experi- 
ment reported by Professor Bagley.^ School children were 
trained to be neat in arithmetic papers. They showed no 
tendency to improve the neatness of papers written in con- 
nection with other subjects. 

When we compare the conclusions of these experimenters, 
we find a substantial unanimity of opinion. It is agreed that 
wherever practice in one exercise leads to improvement in an- 
other certain specific elements in both are identical, and call 
forth identical responses which promote success in both exer- 
cises. The identical elements that are thus distinguished 
may be divided into two groups, those of content and those 
of form. As examples of content elements we may mention 
sounds, colors, letters, nonsense syllables, words, objects, 
kinds of geometrical figures, standards of measurements, 
ideas, etc. As one grows familiar with such elements, the 
power to remember them, and to attend to them when they 
appear in new situations, and to do what they suggest increases. 
The elements of form may be said to consist of the character- 
istics that various situations present as problems for the 
attacking mind. Thus we recognize one situation as a problem 
of memorizing where from the nature of the material a par- 
ticular method of committing to memory may be especially 
useful. Again, we recognize the need of particular adjust- 

1 The Educative Process, Ch. XIII. 



The Question of Formal Discipline 305 

ments of perception, such as eye movements which we have 
already practiced. All situations demand adjustments of 
attention, some of which may invariably be necessary, while 
others may suit especially specific kinds of material. 

We observe that elements of form and elements of content Discipline as 
are equally specific, equally capable of definition. Moreover, ^nd"^*^ 
both are capable of generalization; that is, both are capable general 
of appearing in a variety of settings. The problem of general 
training is, then, quite as much one of discipline in content 
as it is of discipline in form. A better division of mental dis- 
cipHne for our purposes would be into two phases, which we 
may denominate specific discipline and general discipline. 
Specific discipline consists in the analysis of the specific ele- 
ments which are found to be critical in determining certain 
reactions, and in the practice by which the appropriate reac- 
tion is made the habitual response to each element thus dis- 
criminated. General discipline consists of training in the 
recognition of these critical elements in a variety of situations. 

The successful transference of any result of practice or 
experience depends upon both these phases of discipline. 
The failure to transfer neatness from arithmetic papers to Bagiey's ex- 
others in the experiment by Bagley is, doubtless, due to some n^usuTtive 
lack of efficiency in both respects. The specific discipline of the lack 
failed in attaching the reactions connected with neatness with "^ d^sci-^""^ 
elements which in any situation were expected to call forth pii^e 
these responses. The suggestion which in the practice was 
associated with neatness was not the thought of any exercise 
to be presented to the inspection of a teacher, but rather that 
of an arithmetic paper to be presented to a teacher who insists 
on neatness. Very naturally, when any of these factors was 
absent, the children failed to make the response which was 
associated with the entire group. Or, if, as is likely, we may 
call the command of the teacher in question the critical sug- 



3o6 



Principles of Education 



Interference 
(i) from 
the lack 
of specific 
discipline, 
(2) from 
the lack 
of critical 
application 
of the 
habit 



gesting stimulus to put forth the effort desired, then the reason 
for the lack of transference was that the identical element that 
prompted the desired reactions was absent from all the test 
material. No child would be neat unless there were some rea- 
son for it, and the only reason that had so far appealed to the 
children was the desirability of conforming to the requirement 
of the teacher. 

In the second place, the experiment illustrates the lack of 
any attempt to secure general discipHne. If the children had 
been trained to be neat not only in arithmetic papers, but also 
in many others, and if many teachers had conspired to enforce 
this demand, it would have been much more likely that the 
children would have recognized in some new paper that they 
were required to present an occasion for the exercise of the 
virtue in question than they would after any amount of specific 
drill in neatness in any one connection.^ 

We have noted two conditions that give rise to interference. 
In the first case a given reaction is attached to a vague un- 
analyzed situation rather than to the specific element in that 
emergency to which it constitutes the proper response. In 
consequence, other situations superficially resembling the first 
call forth the reaction, even though the real reason for this 
reaction is wanting. Thus all diseases are treated by the 
savage medicine man or the Christian Scientist alike. The 
faith that cures is not properly fitted to the specific condition 
for which it has real therapeutic value. The fault here lies 
plainly in inadequate specific discipline. The second case of 
interference appears where in a new situation a different reac- 
tion should be made to a stimulus than the one originally 
learned. This is illustrated in the experiments of Bergstrom 

^ Ruediger, Principles of Education, 108-110, gives an account of supple- 
mentary experiments on neatness, in which the limitations of Bagley's experi- 
ment are in a measure removed, with great consquent gain in transference. 



The Question of Formal Discipline 307 

and Miinsterberg. Here the reaction to a given stimulus was 
arbitrarily made different. In the practical emergencies of 
life this form of interference arises because in different circum- 
stances the same stimulus should be responded to differently. 
The personal influence by which one has never yet failed to win 
a child to proper conduct may fail because other influences 
are leading the child to react differently to the counsels of his 
mentor. In such cases successful transference depends upon 
the accurate discrimination of each element in the situation 
that is critical in determining its treatment, and either the 
habit or the mental grasp and judgment that correlates these, 
and from this complex suggestion initiates the proper response. 
Again, we may say the fault lies in specific discipline. 

In general, we may then say that interference always arises 
from a lack of critical care, either in forming the habit or in 
utilizing it. The critical forming of the habit is the task of 
specific discipline. The critical use of the habit depends to a 
considerable extent upon such familiarity with a variety of 
cases where the habit might be resorted to as insures caution in 
its appHcation. Thus it is very largely a matter of general 
discipline. However, the main problem of general discipline 
is, not to prevent interference from the transfer of wrong reac- 
tions, but rather to insure the transference of the right ones. 
This it does by making us alert to the critical suggestions wher- 
ever they may appear. 

We may conclude, then, that there is something which may condu 
appropriately be called formal discipline, and that it may be '" ^"^^ard 
more or less general in character. It consists in the establish- discipline 
ment of habitual reactions that correspond to the form of sit- 
uations. These reactions foster adjustments, attitudes, and 
ideas that favor the successful dealing with the emergencies 
that rouse them. On the other hand, both the form that we 
can learn to deal with more effectively, and the reactions that 



sions 



3o8 



Principles of Education 



Transference 
and the 
education 
of the 
reason 



we associate with it, are definite. There is no general training 
of the powers or faculties, so far as we can determine. Formal 
discipline improves mental efl5ciency wherever new situations 
correspond in form to ones the treatment of which has been 
mastered, provided one recognizes or feels this similarity. 
Such training, like any other culture, consists in the establish- 
ment of habits of thought and action that will prove useful 
along dependent lines of development. 

These habits, once established, govern our future activities. 
Thus it may be said that the transference of training, instead 
of being an exceptional affair, is the rule. The novelty of a 
new situation may or may not be felt or apprehended. In the 
latter case it will be treated as an old one would be, and the cor- 
responding habits will be transferred uncritically. If the new- 
ness is noticed, reaction will be slower, but whenever it comes, 
it will inevitably consist of the responses that are associated 
with whatever is felt or seen to be familiar in the emergency. 
Thus the inherent need of action forces transference, general- 
ization ; and the inherent need of success compels us to correct 
such transference as, in the phraseology of our experiments, 
has resulted in interference. 

At bottom successful transference to situations that are 
more or less new is a matter of intelligence. Of course, one 
can learn by trial and error methods, and in that event it is 
well to have in one's equipment of resources a habit or group 
of habits that will apply, if only we can pick out what we 
want. However, ideational processes greatly enhance the likeli- 
hood of immediately successful transference. The problem of 
whether we can train these was discussed in the last chapter. 
It will be noted that what has just been called specific discipline, 
or the formation of an association between a reaction and its 
universal stimulus, corresponds to the formation of concepts. 
On the other hand, general discipline, or training to recognize 



The Question of Formal Discipline 309 

these critical stimuli in new surroundings, corresponds to that 
inductive method by which concepts are so widely associated 
with concrete situations that they are apt to be recalled when 
they are needed. It is evident also that successful transference 
is fostered not only by such forms of discipline, but also by the 
power to take the attitudes of originaHty and of criticism. 



Section 34. The theory of formal discipline as an educational 

principle 

If we were to sum up the general principles of educational Educational 
practice that can be deduced from the preceding discussion of ^JiTtTrfgTo 
the theory of formal discipline, they could be stated about as formal 

. . discipline 

follows : (i) There is no general training of mental power en- 
tirely apart from the establishment of definite associations. 
(2) The associations established by discipline may involve 
responses to the form of a situation, or that about it which sug- 
gests to the mind a general mode of treatment. Training of this 
sort maybe called formal discipline, but it is no less definite than 
instruction in content. (3) Reactions of method, such as 
result from formal discipline, probably are, on the whole, 
more widely useful than are definite pieces of information. 
There are fewer associations to be established by formal dis- 
cipline, but these can be utilized in a wider field of service. 
(4) To secure this wider service, or to bring about successful 
transference, requires a special sort of training, entirely apart 
from the mere establishments of the specific associations 
involved. The school does not get general power unless it 
works for this. (5) Subjects should not be chosen for their 
formal discipline alone. Training in method is most eco- 
nomical and most effective when it is given in connection with 
content the mastery of which is in itself valuable. Some of 
these points require a little more extended discussion. 



3IO 



Principles of Education 



(i) Abandon- 
ment of the 
culture of 
the facul- 
ties 



Resulting 
advantages 



(2) Formal 
discipline 
as training 
in reactions 
to form 



Definiteness 
of this 



Difficulty in 
defining 
neatness 



(i) The disappearance of the view that there is a vague 
general culture of the faculties through use is doubtless a dis- 
tinct step ahead in education. It does away with a comfort- 
able acquiescence in the existing state of affairs, and opens 
the way for criticism and progress and definite choice as to the 
subject matter of the curriculum. Moreover, it offers to school 
method a problem which hitherto has been inadequately real- 
ized ; namely, the problem of bringing about really general 
effects. Since their attainment cannot be taken for granted, 
the school must find out how this can be brought about, or 
give up this important phase in its work, and content itself in 
training for certain special situations, which can be quite 
definitely foreseen. 

(2) If the phrase " formal discipline " is defined in such a way 
as to mean training in those methods of treatment that are 
adapted to what might be called the form of a situation, it is 
important to note that these adjustments are quite definite 
in character. In criticising the disciplinary training given in 
the experiments reported by Professor Bagley, it was noted 
that there was an absence of both specific and of general dis- 
cipline. On the one hand, the children were not trained to 
recognize that general characteristic of various situations 
which constitutes them occasions for the display of neatness, 
and, on the other, there was no attempt to teach the classes 
to recognize this critical characteristic in various surroundings. 
Formal discipline is specific; that is, definite. It involves 
definite stimuli and definite responses. 

If we try to realize what these definite factors are, we find 
that their analysis is not altogether a simple affair. To con- 
tinue with the illustration used above, it is evident that there 
are many kinds of neatness, that they differ as to the character 
of the situations that require them, and also as to the reactions 
that they involve. There is neatness in written work in the 



The Question of Formal Discipline 311 



school, neatness in dress, neatness in arranging one's posses- 
sions, etc. However, there must be something in common, 
both in respect to the occasions for neatness and the methods 
of attaining it ; otherwise they could scarcely be covered by a 
single word. Professor Bagley declares that the general ele- 
ment is the ''ideal" of neatness, which involves a new set of 
habits for each situation. This ideal, he believes, can be 
implanted by instruction in the mind, and its existence facili- 
tates, in his judgment, the formation of a special set of adjust- 
ments by which one may conform to its requirements in a spe- 
cial case. If we have the general ideal of neatness, we will be 
apt to think of it when we dispose the materials on our study 
tables, and find out by experiment what sort of arrangement 
yields the desired result. 

What is this ideal of neatness ? If it be not definite in regard Neatness a 
to the occasions that suggest it, and the activities and results 
that satisfy it, one can scarcely see how it can form a stimulus 
to readjustment. Analysis would seem to reveal these specific 
factors. In general, the need for neatness arises wherever 
one is arranging material to be submitted later to the inspec- 
tion or use either of himself or of some one else. Neatness 
means such a disposition of that material as insures a pleasing, 
and in so far an aesthetic, effect on the eye, a ready inspection 
of the items arranged, or a convenient utilization of them, when 
they are needed. In short, neatness is that orderly arrange- 
ment that makes for efficiency, and contributes, doubtless 
partly because of this quality, to eesthetic satisfaction. The 
various factors that make up neatness differ widely with the 
material involved. Usually they include cleanness, — al- 
though to some this conception may be distinct. Dirt, which 
has been defined as matter out of place, must be absent. This 
includes blots on paper, spots on clothing, and dust or refuse 
papers on a study table. In general, however, dirt can be 



definite 
quality in 
respect to 
its occasion, 
its crite- 
rion, and its 
reactions 



'\ 312 Principles of Education 

recognized by the definite criterion just suggested. Orderly 
arrJingement again varies with circumstances. So far as 
written school work is concerned, it means legibility, and such 
an arrangement of material as favors easy inspection. The 
arrangei|nent desirable in arithmetic would, of course, differ 
from th^t required in English. Nevertheless, there is a per- 
fectly definite, yet perfectly general criterion, which we apply 
to test whether we have succeeded in getting neat effects. 
We simply inspect, and judge from the sense of satisfaction, 
and the e^se we feel or think others will feel in scanning the 
material uVider criticism whether it can be justly regarded as 
neat. 
Variation Thus ncatncss is a definite quality, tested by a definite 

and read- criterion, and demanded by a definite type of situation. The 

justment ' _ '' ^ 

in details of detailed factors of the quality vary from case to case, but there 
neatness -^ always sameness in the fundamental factors. The task of 
specific discipline is to effect the association between the com- 
mon characteristics of situations requiring neatness and the 
criterion by which its presence may be tested. In addition, 
many definite ways of securing neatness, some more, some less 
general, may be learned or associated with the desire to display 
this quality. These offer a basis for experimentation, wher- 
ever new devices are necessary to secure the proper effect. 
(3) Formal (s) We commonly assume that formal discipline is more 
discipline general than any other kind. This is probably true, though 

as the most ^ . / . . , , r , , f 

general Unimportant. It is evident that formal elements are rela- 
form of tional in character. When one speaks of classes of situations, 

culture _ ^ ^ ' 

he has in mind usually, if not invariably, groupings according 
to form, such groupings as are based on the relation of the 
situations to our practical life. Neatness is a requirement of 
a form of situations, because it cannot be defined apart from 
the relation between its material and the persons who inspect 
or use it. Such relationships may be very general. Indeed, 



The Questio7t of Formal Discipline 313 

it is likely that they are far more general than are the content 
factors which they relate. The need of memorizing is more 
commonly encountered in experience than is any fact that one 
needs to memorize. It is difl&cult to draw a hard and fast dis- 
tinction between the relational and the related factors, the form 
and the content, of experience. However, it is evident that 
where emphasis is thrown on relation, there we have form, 
and that there are certain fundamental forms that constitute 
typical problems, the power to deal with which is a constant 
asset throughout Ufe. The acquisition of this power may 
properly be designated as formal discipline. Thus we may 
speak of training to attend, by which we mean to assume the 
physiological and mental adjustments of attention, some of 
which are more and some less general, as being formal disci- 
pline in so far as it is independent of the content to which atten- 
tion is given. Moreover, as the adjustments become more 
and more adapted peculiarly to one content, the merely formal 
character of the discipHne would seem to be lost. Attention 
to a color is dependent on the memory of this color, as well as 
upon the general adjustments of attention. On the other The problem 
hand, it must not be forgotten that content elements constantly °|ine^the 
recur in new contexts, and so may be regarded as general in same for 
character. Whatever is worth knowing can be used repeatedly, ^nd con- 
The same color may appear again and again, and be a factor in tent 
problems that appeal to attention, memory, judgment, and 
will. Wherever it appears, there will be somewhat of similarity 
in the situations and in the reactions demanded. Knowledge 
is always of the universal and for the sake of determining 
readjustment. If it seems natural and appropriate to desig- 
nate one phase of a situation as its form, and another as its 
content, it must be remembered that the part of discipline in 
reference to each is the same; i.e. to estabhsh associations and 
reactions which these factors, when they recur, may invariably 



trans- 
ference 



314 Principles of Education 

suggest. Moreover, discipline in adjustments to a few type 

forms would not be of any value if it were not sustained by 

familiarity with the treatment of a multitude of facts. 

(4) General (4) But education, whether in form or in content, does not 

discipline g^j^ itsclf up in spccific discipline, in the establishment of defi- 

necessary 

to efiective nite associations. It includes also general discipline, or the 
training of the power to recognize the occasions for the use of 
habits or knowledge. The school in its drill has often failed 
to single out the universal stimulus, occasion, or reason for the 
habit it teaches. It has just drilled ; drilled without intelli- 
gence, and so in such a way as to preclude much transfer of its 
effects. But even intelligent drill is not enough. There must 
be training to make this intelligence available and forth- 
coming when it is needed. General power may come of itself, 
but it is likely that it will not come in any great measure unless 
it has been nursed by training. General discipline is that sort 
of culture which we have discussed in connection with the edu- 
Anaiogy cation of the reason. Habits, like any resources, are made 

frctive" available, not alone by being shaken loose from dependence 
training in upou a uarrow group of accidental associations, but also by 

concepts 

the acquisition of a great and varied mass of connections, 
accidental or essential, so that their recall in a new concrete 
situation may not depend on too tenuous a thread. Again, 
the formal discipline of the school to be transferred most suc- 
cessfully should be acquired in a school atmosphere that 
resembles as much as possible that of life. Moreover, since life 
is varied, and requires the application of habits and principles 
with proper emendation according to circumstances, the school 
environment should be varied and consist of problems in the 
application of habits as well as knowledge. Most important 
of all the habits that discipline can inculcate are those rational 
attitudes of originality and criticism, the assumption of which 
is the most favorable condition for the wide and accurate ap- 



The Question of Formal Discipline 315 



plication of other attitudes and adjustments that culture has 
instilled. 

(5) When we come to the matter of the curriculum, it is 
evident that no study should exist in the school simply because 
it exercises a few general powers and develops a few habits 
that may be extensively employed. The only adequate justi- 
fication of a subject is that the habits and the experience that 
it furnishes sum up a more valuable total than the habits and 
experience that its introduction excludes from the curriculum. 
In this comparison, no gain is made by separating formal from 
content values. Both are equally specific, and may be equally 
general. The method of study is a factor of the greatest im- 
portance, but because of this fact it is a value most generally 
present among the educational advantages of subjects and, 
therefore, least available as a criterion of their relative excel- 
lence. Men are prone to think that a subject worth while 
only for its methods is for that reason more valuable for method 
than any other. The exact contrary is more nearly the fact ; 
for, as we have seen, a m.ethod studied in connection with a 
variety of matter corresponding to that which is mastered in 
life through its employment is one most likely to be transferred 
to living situations. 

Here it m.ay be urged that we are forgetting the importance 
of intensive as against extensive study. It is a common opin- 
ion that work in which certain methods are dwelt on to the 
exclusion of other interests brings these methods into clear 
relief, emphasizes their nature, and drills in their use, so that 
the pupils really become masters of them in a degree impossible 
were the mind absorbed in a content to the comprehension of 
which such methods are only auxiliary. While we may grant 
the importance of intensive study to be fundamental, we may 
still maintain that, taken by itself, its results are narrow. 
For the sake of discrimination and drill certain stimuli and 



(5) No study 
should be 
given 

merely for 
formal 
discipline 



Intensive 
training 
in method 
should be 
combined 
with its 
use with 
living 
problems 



3i6 Principles of Education 

their reactions must be isolated and practiced, but for the sake 
of their practical application these ideas and habits must be 
illustrated and used in a variety of concrete cases, where the 
main interest is not the method but the results that are attained 
through its use. Thus in the last analysis method and content 
are interwoven, and there is no mastery of the one apart from 
a grip upon the other. 

Difficulty in It follows that no subject can really justify itself except by 
appraising ghowing that it is through and through interpenetrated with 
of subjects vitality. Content and form should both contribute, and con- 
tribute in aUiance with each other, to living efficiency. Here 
we encounter the objection that in modern life the conditions 
are so complex and variable that it is exceedingly difficult 
to determine with any approach to conclusiveness the relative 
value of subjects for practical efficiency. Indeed, if this ques- 
tion were settled for one, it would by no means be settled for 
all, and any appraisement of value for one time would doubt- 
less have to be modified before many years had passed. The 
argument from formal discipline has, as we have seen, gained 
much of its attractiveness from the difficulty of substituting 
for it satisfactory methods of determining relative value. 
However, this difficulty should not blind us to the inadequacy 
of the conception as a criterion. Disciplinary values depend 
in final reduction upon the same factors as any other ones. 
We can no longer plead the conception of a vague culture of the 
faculties. Our scientific sense cries out for something more 
definite, more decisive. Perhaps the organization of educa- 
tional research, of which we are now witnessing the beginning, 
may hold in store for us at least an approximation to the solu- 
tion of our problem. 

Conclusion In conclusion, then, it seems likely that the psychologists 

have done a great service to education in setting aside the old 
conception of a vague formal discipline, and thereby clearing 



The Question of Formal Discipline 317 

the way for a study of definite disciplinary effects and the 
method by which they may most effectively be realized. While 
teachers will doubtless continue, as in the past, to value most 
highly those general attitudes and adjustments which consti- 
tute the methods by which the human mind approaches various 
classes of problems, they will strive to ascertain the exact 
nature of these, to appraise them, and to set them side by side 
with the knowledge of content, apart from which they can 
neither be acquired nor utilized. 



CHAPTER XI 



Imitation 
the most 
general 
form of 
educative 
activity 



Imitation 

especially- 
valuable 
as a 

socializing 
agency 



IMITATION 

Section 35. The function of imitation 

The great stress that genetic psychology and sociology have 
placed upon imitation is, doubtless, in large measure justified. 
While it is possible that the formula of the "circular activity" ^ 
is not all-explanatory in the growth of human powers, and that 
the epigram "society is imitation" ^ is an inadequate account 
of this institution, nevertheless, these conceptions have unques- 
tionably contributed an enormous amount to the comprehen- 
sion of mental and social evolution. The form of imitation 
is one of the simplest and most universal that the process of 
individual readjustment can take. Granted that the customs 
of others are well selected, one may save an enormous amount 
of experimentation if he has a tendency to imitate them. 
In general, these customs are far more useful than anything 
that the individual could learn without imitating. Hence 
imitation, so far from being regarded with scorn, should be 
considered as the most nearly omnipresent form than educative 
activity assumes. Recapitulatory education, as social hered- 
ity, consists largely of imitations. 

The adjustments learned by imitation find their especial 
value in affording adaptation to social life. However, they may 
help the individual to effective action in cases where only iso- 
lated activity is concerned. Men imitate methods of hunting 

^ Compare Baldwin, Mental Development, Methods and Processes. 
^ Compare Tarde, The Laws of Imitation. 
318 



Imitation 3 1 9 

and fishing, the construction and manipulation of tools, making 
and using fire, clothing, etc., thus increasing vastly the effi- 
ciency of the individual. But in helping them to cooperate, 
imitation is doing a service that far surpasses anything it can 
give in any other direction. Cooperation may in its later 
developments admit of individuality and specialization, but it 
finds its foundations in social solidarity or conformity, in like- 
ness in action, feeling, and thought among the members of the 
social group. It is mass activity rather than the division of 
labor that renders early society especially effective. In attack, 
in defense, in warning of danger, or in disseminating informa- 
tion, in assisting in the gaining of food, or in sharing with those 
who are temporarily unable to get what they need, and the 
like, we find the fundamental uses of social life. In fact, it is 
only to further these basic common purposes that specialization 
exists. 

Cooperation is so valuable an instrumentality in the struggle consequent 
for existence that the societies that survive are as a rule those survival 
that develop a maximum of such activity. Primarily social imitative- 
action is a matter of instinct, but of instinct that in the higher °^^^ 
animals is supplemented and in man overshadowed by imita- 
tion. Heredity gives a foundation of similar functions, but 
imitation brings into conformity the methods by which these 
are carried out. It reduces to the uniform the actions, thoughts, 
and feelings of men. This uniformity enables them to get on 
with each other, and to mass activity upon common purposes. 
Hence man, when he becomes more social, becomes more imi- 
tative, and since social action is so important an adjustment, 
mankind, especially civilized man, seems to get by far the most 
important part of his education through imitation. 

Learning by imitation finds its great effectiveness in that it 
goes on without any conscious purpose. By the mechanism 
of certain psycho-physiological laws one inevitably imitates 



320 



Principles of Education 



Imitation 
illustrated 
in all 
phases of 
learning 



Imitation a 
selective 
process, 
for (i) it 
transmits 
selected 
habits ; 



(2) it is en- 
forced by 
social pres- 
sure, — a 
selective 
agency ; 



the models that his environment presents. Of course, in its 
more advanced forms, imitation is under the control of will 
and directed by reason. Thus there are all stages of learning by 
imitation, from mere trial and error approximation to a pattern 
not consciously imitated to deliberate copying of a model 
supposed to be desirable. When one has imitated blindly an 
effective way of acting or thinking, he tends to realize the value 
of the result, and in the future to look more and more to the 
models of others, as something attention to which cannot fail 
to produce good effects. 

Fundamentally imitation does not create any resources of 
mind or body, but simply furthers a selective process that is 
ordinarily of very great advantage. One can imitate only 
what he can do, and, indeed, as a rule, what he has already 
done, or something very like it. When we seem to copy some 
novel act, what we really do is to call upon our resources, in 
order, by experimentation with them, to approximate to the 
model that constrains us. This model is a selective agency, 
serving to eliminate our false efforts. Through its control 
we build up rapidly a habit, which, because it has been tested 
by the practice of society, perhaps for ages, is, as it were, the 
embodiment of ages of elimination. Imitation saves time and 
effort in experimentation. It is an agency of economy, of 
selection. 

This selective function of imitation continues in evidence 
in connection with the insights and standards that it helps to 
bring to consciousness. These are especially associated with 
the constitution and mechanism of society. Since society is so 
important an agency for survival, the efforts of man are directed 
largely toward adaptation to the social environment, through 
which all other necessities of life are to be obtained. Social 
adaptation is, as we have seen, largely a matter of imitation. 
Moreover, not only the welfare of the individual, but of others 



Imitation 



321 



in society depends upon the extent to which he conforms or 
imitates. The imitative person is the, socially desirable person. 
It becomes, therefore the, interest of society to compel its mem- 
bers to imitate. By instinct or conscious purpose it neglects, 
harries, banishes, outlaws, destroys the individual who fails 
to conform, and so to cooperate. Thus natural selection is 
supplemented by social selection in the elimination of the non- 
imitative. 

The intensity of this social pressure forces more clearly upon 
the mind of the individual the great importance to him of doing 
and thinking after the fashion of others. The conception of 
social practice, opinion, and attitude becomes a standard of 
judgment in the selection of efficient conduct. In order to 
understand how to conform, the individual must know not only 
what others are doing now, but he must learn the general prin- 
ciples that govern their actions. He must penetrate into the 
nature of his companions. This means that he must develop 
a clear consciousness of self and of others ; that is, of what 
may be called the social elements. He must realize the stand- 
ards to which other persons are striving to conform, standards 
which they are applying to him in their judgments of his con- 
duct. He must attain a fairly universal concept of himself 
in order to judge as to whether he is, on the whole, conforming 
properly to the principles of social conduct. In short, the 
comprehension of that general standard, the socially accept- 
able, leads to the conception of personality both in self and in 
others, and to the specific norms on the basis of which social 
conformity may be attained. 

Imitation operates selectively, but it is also the most excel- 
lent example of how selection operates to expand resources. 
It will be remembered^ that this comes about through (i) the 
estabhshment of fundamental habits or concepts, out of 

' Compare § 27. 

Y 



(3) it leads 
to a knowl- 
edge of 
social 
standards, 
and of the 
minds that 
think them 



The selected 
products of 
imitation 
as a basis 
for expan- 
sion of re- 
sources 



322 Principles of Education 

the combination of which an enormous number of efifective 
constructions can be made in order to deal with new, compli- 
cated situations ; (2) the construction and reconstruction of 
experience by the application of standard concepts, so that 
perception becomes sharper and richer in background, memory- 
more accurate and complete, and the memory of the individual 
expanded into conformity with the memory of the social group; 
(3) the reenforcement of the memory of habit by bringing it 
into conformity with the logical relationships revealed by the 
analysis and criticism of the concepts. Imitation affords help 
in all these directions. Perhaps the best example of its effec- 
tiveness is to be found in language. Articulate language is 
acquired through imitation. But it sharpens our apprehension 
of the qualities that we perceive ; it stimulates, defines, and 
strengthens the imagination. Both as oral and written, it 
offers a most extraordinary help to memory, ultimately enabling 
the individual to seize and retain a clear and consistent picture 
not only of his own past, but also of the minds of others and the 
experience of the race. The effects of language upon mental 
resources are merely typical of those of any product of imita- 
tive activity. 
Summary The general function of imitation is, then, to be found in the 

guidance it affords to the process of experimentation. Through 
conscious or unconscious constraint of attention to the models 
afforded by others we very rapidly attain adjustments that 
undirected experimentation would find very difficult or impos- 
sible. These adjustments may enable the individual to deal 
directly with nature or to cooperate with society. The latter 
type of adjustment constitutes the most extensive and valuable 
of the contributions of imitation to the equipment of man. 
In society it is necessary that nearly all should cooperate, or 
conform, if any are to gain an advantage from this source. 
Hence society compels conformity, imitation. Thus we imi- 



Imitation 323 

tate, not only unconsciously and because we see the advantage 
of adopting the habits of others, but also because we cannot 
get on without accepting their standards. In striving to attain 
these, we must come into a knowledge of the prevailing ideals 
and customs, and hence must become acquainted with the 
minds of others and with our own personahty. All this is 
essentially a process of selection, contributory to judgment, 
but it reacts on one's resources by clarifying them, criticising 
them, using them in reconstructing and in constructing images 
and ideas, the memories of one's past, and of the race. Knowl- 
edge systematized is apt to be firmly memorized, and hence 
rendered readily available. The selective function of imita- 
tion, and the resulting enrichment of the mind, is well illustrated 
by language, one of its most important products. 

Section 36. Psycho-physiological mechanism of imitation 

Imitation may be defined as the reproduction of the acts of Definition oi 
others as a result of perceiving or remembering them. The ^^^ ^ ^'^^ 
term has been applied in a wider sense to include the repe- 
tition of one's previous acts, as in the case of habits, or the 
revival of earlier mental states, as in memory. Here one is 
said to imitate himself. But while the associations that ex- 
plain habit and memory also explain imitation, it is, perhaps, 
better in the discussion of imitation as a form of education to 
confine the concept to acts or ideas suggested by others. 

From the point of view of their genesis, acts of imitation may imitation as 
be divided into those which are instinctive and those which are stinctive 
learned or acquired. It must be kept in mind that what is in- and ac- 

. quired 

stinctive or acquired is the tendency to perform an act m re- 
sponse to the perception or thought of it. Instinctive imi- 
tative acts seem to find illustration frequently both in animals 
and in men. Among timid animals, such as sheep, the per- 



324 



Principles of Education 



Formation 
of the 
"imitative 
associa- 
tion" 



ception of a companion running as from fear will usually start 
imitative acts. Not only in the stampede, but also in other 
activities, such as those of the search for food, etc, we find 
what seems like instinctive imitation among the lower animals. 
Of course, it is always possible to suppose that the direct stimu- 
lus to the imitative act is not the perception of the activity of 
others, but rather some idea of danger, food, or the like which 
is suggested by this perception. What actually happens on 
this notion is, for example, that the chicken perceives another 
chicken scratching. This suggests the notion of food, and this 
notion in turn causes the chicken that gets it to scratch. 

Whatever we may say about instinctive acts, it is certain 
that there are many imitative acts that are acquired. One 
learns to perform an act on perceiving another do it. Without 
doubt, the physiological process by which this is accomplished 
consists in the formation of an association in the cortex of the 
brain between the sensory areas that are excited when one per- 
ceives or imagines a certain act, and the motor areas that con- 
trol the performance of this act. The establishment of such 
an association means the acquisition of control over the move- 
ment. Such control is originally a product of experimental 
activity. It rests back apparently on the following physio- 
logical law of association. When different parts of the cortex 
of the brain are excited simultaneously or in immediate suc- 
cession, and the accompanying experiences are satisfactory, the 
two parts tend to become connected, so that the subsequent 
reexcitement of the one tends to stir up the other. Now as 
the child moves in a random, uncontrolled fashion, he at the 
same time gets sensations that result from this action. He 
perceives through sight, or hearing, or touch, or, at any rate, 
through the kinassthetic sense, what he has done. The sensory 
areas involved in perceiving the act are thus excited at prac- 
tically the same time as the motor area the random stimulation 



Imitation 325 

of which produced it. Hence these regions become associated; 
that is, if the sense of the activity in question is satisfactory. 
The estabhshment of this association means that in the future 
the excitement of the sensory areas in connection with the 
perception or thought of this act will tend to spread into the 
motor area that controls it. Hence it will be imitated. 

It is evident that, unless the association just described imitative as- 
exists in the brain, the perception of an act will not lead, ex- dependent 
cept by chance or by voluntary experiment, to its reproduction, on the per- 
Hence children do not learn to do things primarily by per- ^f t^e acts 
ceiving them done by others, but only as a result of their own ^^^y ^on- 
activity. Only thus are the motor areas that control their 
muscles brought into the proper association with the sensory 
areas concerned in the perception of the movements. The 
perception of the acts of others may, however, start random 
experimentation, which eventuates in the successful reproduc- 
tion of these movements. In that case, the association by 
which imitation is made possible is established, and this is the 
method of much learning by imitation. 

Clearly enough, whenever the child moves, whether it be Rise of "cir- 
reflex, instinctive, random, or experimental activity, the re- j^y-, ^^^ 
suits are apt to be perceived, and the sensori-motor associa- the imita- 

... tive age 

tion, which may, perhaps, properly be called the "imitative 
association," tends to be formed. Thus in a short time the 
child has developed an enormous number of such associations. 
Their existence involves the ''circular activity" of Professor 
Baldwin. This consists in the tendency for an act to be con- 
tinually repeated, because its performance leads to its per- 
ception, and this again to its performance. Children dis- 
play this tendency to prolonged repetition. Moreover, when 
a child has formed many of the "imitative associations" he 
tends to reproduce of necessity many perceived acts. Any- 
thing that he can do, or anything like what he can do, will be 



326 



Principles of Educatio7t 



Imitation 
as deter- 
mining 
the asso- 
ciations 
that shall 
survive 



The imitative 
impulse as 
instigating 
experi- 
ments 



mechanically imitated. He reaches an imitative age, in which 
his actions seem largely to consist of mimicry. 

Such imitation of what the child has already learned to do 
strengthens the associations involved into firmer habits. On 
the other hand, the imitative association, if it be not stirred 
into activity by the perception of others performing the act 
to which it leads, will tend to die out for lack of use and nour- 
ishment. Thus imitation determines survival among the in- 
cipient associations, stimulating some and so building them 
up into habits, and eliminating others. This process may not 
improperly be called a form of learning by imitation. 

We may distinguish three forms of learning by imitation, 
(i) The learning that consists in imitative formation of hab- 
its out of some incipient associations, and the neglect of others. 
This may be regarded as learning, inasmuch as the habits 
that are thus established are, on the whole, those best calcu- 
lated to enable the individual to get on. Like all learning, 
this process is one of experimentation and selection. The 
experiments are associations, most of which are initiated by 
non-imitative impulses. The selection is under the control of 
imitation. (2) Many acts are for the first time performed 
under the stimulus of the perception of similar acts. This 
mental condition starts experimental activity, which tends 
to be somewhat like the apprehended movements. Now if 
the model act continues to be kept before the attention, be- 
cause it is repeated, or because it possesses interest enough to 
be kept clearly in memory, or because of an effort of will, 
experimentation may continue until a fairly accurate repro- 
duction is for the first time made by the child. This is per- 
sistent imitation. By it one learns to do what he has never 
done before. Imitation helps to initiate experiments, as well 
as to determine survival among them. (3) Consciousness 
may enter in to contrive such a conibination or modification of 



Imitation 327 

acts over which one has already gained control as will conform imitation 
to the model. Here the starting point is not the mere impulse ^^ ^°T 
to do something somewhat like what is perceived, even if one planned 
cannot imitate it exactly; but there is a consciousness of such 
impulses and of the acts to which they lead which directs the 
imitative process. 

We have already pointed out that it is likely that some acts The imitative 
are instinctively imitated The "imitative association" may arbiim" 
be inborn It is hard to be certain of this, however, since as 
soon as these acts are performed as a result of any sort of stim- 
ulus, the conditions are present for the formation of the "imi- 
tative association," For example, chickens may run and 
hide long before they do these things as a result of perceiving 
others acting thus. Nevertheless, it is Hkely that this act is 
so fundamentally important as a means of self-preservation 
that it and the emotions that are excited in such an emergency 
can be roused imitatively as well as by the perception of a 
hawk, a fox, or some other dangerous foe. It is hard to under- 
stand how the "imitative associations" could be so well and 
so early established by individual experience as to enable them 
to produce such perfect terror and such similarity in the meth- 
ods of protection. It would seem, therefore, almost certain 
that there is genuine instinctive imitation. Moreover, there 
is also imperfect instinctive imitation. It is likely that many 
centers in the brain are naturally in close connection with motor 
centers that control the movements likely to result in the sensa- 
tions in which they are concerned. The auditory tract seems to 
be naturally connected with the motor centers controlling speech, 
so that the hearing of sound leads at once to the production of 
sound. Such inborn connections, although vague, may assist 
much toward correct imitation, causing the early responses to 
certain stimuli to come nearer a reproduction of these stimuli 
than could possibly be the case by mere random reactions. 



328 



Principles of Education 



Growth from Turning again to the classification of imitative acts, we can 
scious to distinguish among acquired imitations such as are involuntary 
purposive from such as are genuinely voluntary. Early imitation is, as 

imitation r i • i • i • i 

we have seen, largely a matter oi unthmkmg mechamcal ne- 
cessity. We imitate, on the one hand, because the 'imitative 
associations" are formed, and, on the other, because our atten- 
tion is constantly directed toward those supremely interesting 
things, the movements of others of our kind. The constant 
presence of models that can be imitated combines with the 
mechanism for converting the perception of them into mimi- 
cry. Soon, however, in intelligent beings both the fact and the 
advantages of imitation become apprehended At this stage 
persistent imitation becomes more in evidence. From a 
blind tendency that seems to represent a sort of feeling of the 
desirability of continuing experimentation until the model is 
reproduced, it becomes a purposeful effort to do what is seen 
to be a desirable thing. The awareness of the superior skill of 
others, and of the prejudice of society in favor of imitation, 
both assist the growth of voluntary imitation. 

It is not likely that the lower animals imitate voluntarily 
very much, if at all. Herein lies the reason for the theory ^ 
mon in the that they do not learn by imitation. They do not, at least to 
mais ^iiy extent, repeat the acts of others with the distinct idea of 

attaining the same results by so doing. If, for example, a 
monkey gets into a cage by opening a latch that it has ob- 
served another monkey or a man to manipulate, it may be 
simply imitating the act upon which its attention is fixed 
without any conscious intention of thereby effecting a certain de- 
sirable result. If, however, it selects the specific act that mas- 
ters the situation from among others just as likely in themselves 
to provoke imitation, it would seem to display purposeful imita- 
tion. Such cases are described by Hobhouse.^ This inves- 
^ Compare Thorndike, Animal Inielligence. * Mitid in Evolution. 



Voluntary 
imitation 
not com- 



Imitation 329 

tigator makes the point that the ability to learn through imi- 
tation depends very largely upon the animal's power of atten- 
tion. If it be able to attend closely enough to the acts of a 
companion to note what movements bring about the desirable 
result, it can learn by imitation. With most animals the at- 
tention wanders so quickly that they are unable to note the 
connection between a specific act and its consequences. They 
may imitate acts without reference to purposes, but, if their 
minds are bent on purposes, they cannot attend also to the 
acts by which these are attained. Instead of learning from 
its companion the trick of opening a gate, the typical dog 
simply associates this clever mate with the removal of the 
obstacle. It apprehends no way to get through except to 
seek the aid of the dog with the open sesame. Many children 
betray a similar lack of power to imitate purposively. 

It is, however, a narrow interpretation to limit learning by Lower 
imitation to voluntary imitation. To do so would be to neg- fj^-^te^ 
lect he important directive influence of imitation in empha- invoiun- 
sizing without one's knowing it appropriate adjustments, and ^"^ 
in stimulating experiment toward these. Doubtless, lower 
animals imitate very little voluntarily, but mimicry plays, 
nevertheless, a very important part in helping them to acquire 
effective habits. 

From the genetic point of view, another distinction is of Growth 
the same importance as is that between involuntary and vol- i^^tion 
untary imitation. It is that between the imitation of simple o^ simple 

acts to that 

acts and of general plans. At the one extreme, we have the of general 
mere repetition of sounds, gestures, or reflex or habitual ac- p^^°^ 
tivities, such as coughing, running, or hiding. At the other, 
we have a purpose and a general scheme for its reahzation 
adopted from others, but the specific methods by which it is 
carried out may vary widely. If, inspired by the success of 
some one in a certain profession, a young man chooses to fol- 



330 



Principles of Education 



Imitation 
of general 
plans 
rarely 
found 
in lower 
animals 



Summary 



low this career, he may be led to adopt an entirely different 
course in order to prepare therefor. He imitates, but only in 
the most general way. The adaptation of a plan, which is 
suggested by the example of others, to the resources, circum- 
stances, and tastes of one's own life provides abundant oppor- 
tunity for reasoning. Such activity begins early in the play 
life of the child in what is known as dramatic imitation.^ 

Just as the lower animals show very Httle purposeful imi- 
tation, so they are rarely found to imitate and adapt a plan. 
Hobhouse cites a very simple case illustrating the beginnings 
of such an activity. Food is placed on a high shelf, and at- 
tached thereto is a string which dangles down within reach. 
By pulling the string the experimenter secures the food for a 
dog. Later the dog gets down the food for himself by pulling 
the string with his teeth. The situation here is so simple, 
and the adaptation of the man's movement to the dog's re- 
sources so natural and inevitable that it Hes quite within the 
range of brute thinking. It illustrates not only the inception 
of the imitation of plans, but also the beginning of purposeful 
imitation. 

To sum up, we may say that imitation depends upon the 
existence of the "imitative association." This is an associa- 
tion between the sensory area concerned in the perception 
or thought of a movement and the motor area that controls 
this movement. Such associations may exist hereditarily, 
in which case we have instinctive or reflex imitation. Imper- 
fect instinctive imitation may exist where the imitative asso- 
ciations are vague and indefinite instead of being specific. The 
imitative association may be formed only when the child him- 
self makes the movement. Such associations tend to be estab- 
lished as a result of early reflex or random movements. Learn- 
ing by imitation means (i) the fixation of some of these 
^ Compare Kirkpatrick, Fundamentals of Child Study, Ch. VIII. 



Imitation 



331 



associations by the repetitions suggested by the example of 
others, or (2) the experimentation to reproduce an observed act 
not yet under the control of the experimenter, or (3) imitative 
experimentation under the direction of reasoning. 

From the genetic point of view, imitation begins as the 
spontaneous imitation of simple acts, and grows through the 
building up of the imitative associations and the growth of 
knowledge as to the advantages of imitation into voluntary 
imitation, on the one hand, and the imitation of plans, on the 
other. Voluntary imitation demands purpose and a certain 
power of persistent effort. It finds its beginning in per- 
sistent imitation. The imitation of plans involves reasoning 
to adapt one's resources to the plan he is copying. It is early 
illustrated in the dramatic imitations of children. 



Section 37. Psychical effects of imitation 
We have just seen that the growth of the imitative function imitat 



involves enhanced power of discrimination, a sense of the su- 
perior efficiency of the movements of others, the growth of a 
purpose to copy them, and the rational power to adapt the 
aims and plans of others to the circumstances of one's own 
life. According to the functional view of mind, we discrimi- 
nate only when it is necessary to do so in order to make appro- 
priate reactions. The experience of imitation is full of blun- 
ders and failures. Accurate and successful imitation makes a 
heavy demand upon keen discrimination Again, one notes 
how much better he gets on when he happens to do as others do 
than when he simply follows his own devices. This advantage 
is so nearly uniform that it easily grips the attention, and enables 
the formation of a purpose to imitate. Such a purpose in- 
creases the amount of imitative activity, and hence puts greater 
burdens upon the powers of discrimination and of reasoning. 



ion as 
compelling 
discrimina- 
tion and 
reasoning 



332 



Principles of Education 



Imitation 
the basis 
of social 
feelings 
and in- 
sights 



Basis of the 
psychical 
effects of 
imitation 



Community 
feeling due 
to instinc- 
tive or- 
ganic imi- 
tation 



Common 
feelings 
suggestive 
of common 
ideas 



Thus imitation not only profits by mental development, 
but helps it on. As it is essentially a social activity, the feel- 
ings and insights to which this mental development leads are 
mainly social. Moreover, it may be said that the social con- 
sciousness that is fostered by imitation could scarcely find 
any other adequate nurse. We may group this consciousness 
under three heads : (i) community feeling and cognition ; 

(2) consciousness of the social elements, — that is, of the self 
and of others as subjective entities, centers of consciousness ; 

(3) consciousness of the social norms, or of the standards 
upon which social judgment and action are or should be based. 

The mental advances that imitation promotes are a result of 
(i) the motor experiences that it affords, (2) the problems with 
which it faces us, and (3) the attitudes that it leads us to take. 
Community feeling and cognition are largely an outcome of 
the first of these factors. We have such community con- 
sciousness when the members of a social group feel similarly, 
or perceive, imagine, or think about the same things. The 
common activity that results from imitation favors com- 
munity feeling, because our activities determine our feelings. 
Here we may again invoke the James-Lange theory of the 
emotions, to which we have referred.^ It will be noted that 
the bodily activities that are especially concerned in rousing 
emotions are the internal organic disturbances. These can, 
without doubt, be propagated by imitation. The frightened 
acts of a chicken or a sheep are quickly reproduced by their 
fellows, with resultant spread of fear. Such imitation may 
be called instinctive organic imitation, and it is, doubtless, 
the basis of the unreflective sympathy of social beings. 

Imitation communicates feelings because the imitative acts 
are themselves the basis of the feelings they transmit. We act 
similarly, and hence feel similarly. It communicates ideas 

^ Compare § 11. 



Imitatiojt 333 

because these common feelings get associated with similar 
ideas and constitute a powerful agency to suggest them. To 
illustrate, a child imitates the acts of fear. Soon he feels 
frightened, and fear stimulates his imagination to picture out 
the possible source of danger. The definiteness of these 
images will depend upon the vigor of the imagination. More- 
over, the other attendant circumstances, which are noted by 
perception, will contribute to determine the specific image 
that is held to be most likely to represent the danger. We 
have here a semi-logical process of hypothesis and verification, 
such as appears in perceptual control. However, the extraor- 
dinary effectiveness of the feelings of activity in controlling 
the attention must be kept in mind. If one sees a companion 
exhibiting fear, and begins to imitate him, it requires much 
reassuring experience to dispel the images of danger and to 
check the reactions that excite the emotion. 

The vigorous emotions are not the only motor feelings that Common 
suggest common thoughts to imitating individuals. The ^g^n^ents 
general direction of attention and the tone of consciousness are and same- 
largely determined by the sense of what we are doing. Motor dh-Tcdon ^ 
adjustments settle the course that thought shall elect to take, ofatten- 
Hence, when we imitate movements, we project thought into 
channels similar to those followed by our models. Merely to 
express one's self in speech and writing helps one to control 
the current of his thoughts, and that not merely because the 
sound or sight of the words fixes attention, but especially 
because the feehngs of movement dominate it. Hence the 
imitation not only of the expressions of emotion, but of any 
sort of movement, contributes very materially to render thought 
uniform. 

The community feehngs and ideas that imitation spreads 
about find their function in further consequences to which they 
lead. As we have seen, the feehngs and especially the ideas 



334 



Principles of Education 



Interaction 
of the 
thought 
and feeling 
of a group 
through 
expression 
and 
imitation 



Resulting 
compre- 
hensive- 
ness and 
sanity of 
common 
judgment 



of the imitator will differ somewhat from those of the model. 
First of all, imitations are, of course, never exact reproduc- 
tions. The imitation is characterized by the peculiarities of 
the individual who produces it. It is also determined by his 
special situation, which is always a little different from that 
of the model. Since the reactions differ, the feelings will dif- 
fer. Moreover, the accompanying perceptions will differ, 
since imitated and imitator occupy somewhat different situ- 
ations. Finally, the trend of thought is determined, not 
only by motor feelings and present perceptions, but also by 
past experience, which is likely to differ among the individu- 
als of an imitating group. Now the feeling and the thought 
that ensue upon imitation are the stimuli upon which subse- 
quent action will depend. Hence these later activities among 
the members of the imitating group will tend to differ more 
and more. On the other hand, since these individuals are 
continually observing and copying each other, there is a con- 
stant tendency for these variant streams of feehng and thought 
to return through expression and imitation toward a common 
character. 

We have here a sort of a social mind held together by the 
associative Hnks of imitative activity, similarity in emotional 
and cognitive nature, and common circumstances and expe- 
rience. On the other hand, the mental differences bring to 
bear upon the common action a variety of experiences, indi- 
vidual attitudes, and points of view, that all contribute some- 
what to the resulting group activity. The interplay of thought 
and feeling among the individuals of an imitating group is 
somewhat like the reflective processes of a deliberating in- 
dividual, in whom new considerations derived both from per- 
ception and from memory are continually appearing and de- 
termining the drift of mind toward judgment. There can be 
little doubt that, however extreme and unbalanced some of 



Imitation 



335 



its consequences may be, the social mind that imitations foster 
contributes, on the whole, comprehensiveness and sanity to 
the common action. This is especially in evidence when imi- 
tative activity takes the form of language. 

The second important psychical advance to which imita- 
tion leads is the growth of self-consciousness and the conscious- 
ness of other minds. This phase of mental genesis has been 
exploited especially by Professor Baldwin.^ It is, of course, 
pecuHar to human beings, as no one of the lower animals can 
be supposed to be capable of the memory, the comparisons, and 
the distinctions that are necessary. The details of the process, 
called by Baldwin "the dialectic of personal growth," may be 
condensed as follows : — 

The child first establishes his physical orientation. He 
distinguished his own body from other objects. His own body 
is pecuHar, in that it yields sensations when objects come in 
contact with it, and yields pain when these contacts are too 
rough. Moreover, unlike other things, it is always present 
and is under the direct control of the child's impulses. But 
other objects are to be separated into classes. Some, the 
bodies of other animals, are especially interesting. They 
move, and moving objects are very attractive to the attention. 
Moreover, they move in ways unaccountable to the child, 
and are hence provocative of curiosity. The movements of 
persons possess the additional interest of contributing in the 
m-ost marked way to the satisfaction of the child's desires, both 
social and individualistic. So far, however, mental analysis 
has not made use of the guidance of imitation, and the subjec- 
tive worlds of self and of others have not been directly appre- 
hended. 

It has been seen, however, that all this interest in the acts 
of persons will render certain as much spontaneous imitation 
^ Compare the two volumes on Menial Development. 



Imitation 
as a source 
of the con- 
sciousness 
of self and 
others 



Causes of 
interest in 
one's own 
'body and 
in those of 
others 



2,2,^ Principles of Education 

Imitation of them as the physical organization of the child will permit. 
(lUhesub- Such imitations yield new motor feelings, new emotions, and 
jective side suggcst ncw idcas. Thus the child gets the "subjective" 
and of self; ^idc of the acts of others. If he possesses adequate memory, 
he can project these new experiences back into the person whom 
he has imitated, or into any other person who may act simi- 
larly. To perform certain acts means to get experiences dif- 
ferent from what one gets by merely observing them. Others 
who are acting are discovered to feel differently from the self 
which is perceiving their acts. They are having the same 
feelings as the self gets when it imitates these acts. Thus 
other minds get differentiated from the self. 

(2) the self of The ejection of subjective selves, with their attendant feel- 
agency, ings, emotions, and ideas, into the activities of others enables 

a sharp discrimination and definition of one's own self. Thus 
the sense of subjectivity, so fundamental to self-consciousness, 
is born and developed. But in connection with this subjec- 
tive notion of the self, there develops another factor of funda- 
mental importance. It is the sense of the power of the self to 
do and to think. The child recognizes that in imitating others 
it is doing those remarkable things for which they are especially 
interesting. What others have done for it, it comes to do for 
itself. It becomes aware of itself as a center of power hitherto 
regarded as foreign, if not mysterious. To the subjective self 
of feeling is added the self of agency. 

(3) the value The independence of the assistance of others that the child 
wiii-°"^ ""^ gains by imitating their acts when they do desirable things 

develops still further when the child comes to imitate difficult 
acts. Here simple imitation is replaced by persistent imita- 
tion. Under the pressure of a conviction that imitation is 
always possible and always an open sesame to desirable results, 
the child puts forth effort, and thus learns what is commonly 
called the force of his will. If he deliberately persists in the 



Imitation 337 

face of discouragement, he may often gain results otherwise 
impossible. Thus the sense of agency expands from a feeling 
of power to do what others do to a sense of independence, and 
from thence to an awareness of the value of effort, of force of 
will. 

The imitations of the child reveal to him not only how (4) the 
others feel, but also many results of their action which were ^her^T° 
not evident to mere observation. Many apparently capri- 
cious acts are seen to have a motive. Moreover, the point of 
view of the actor is in any case a more favorable one from 
which to apprehend the purpose of the act than is that of the 
observer. Thus the child penetrates through imitation not 
only into the inner feelings, the heart of his companions, but 
also into their motives. Human activity becomes suffused 
with intensity and significance, with emotion and purpose. 
Behind those bodies there are discovered minds, the contents 
of which soon become more mysteriously fascinating because 
they constitute a newly discovered country, with wealth the 
extent of which can only be vaguely imagined. 

The discovery of new motives and attitudes to eject into the (5) the atti- 
minds of others is particularly favored by imitating such con- standards 
duct as centers about the treatment of companions. In re- of society 
producing what others do when they command, teach, cajole, 
manipulate, trick, criticise, and ridicule others, or when they 
are obedient or loyal or admiring or helpful or sympathetic, the 
child becomes aware of a group of motives and judgments 
that others are directing toward himself. He learns the pres- 
ence of what Professor James calls the "social me." In taking 
certain attitudes toward others he learns how large a part such 
mental states have in determining his welfare. He becomes 
aware of social pressure in a new and profounder sense, — the 
force of that mass of opinion and feeling that constitutes his 
standing. He learns that a most important part of what he 



338 Principles of Educaiio7t 

is depends upon others and he begins to look to others to as- 
certain more clearly what he can expect and do. 
Knowledge of Out of this tendency to look back upon himself from the 
the minds standpoint of others the consciousness of the self of memory 

of others . , 1 , 

reveals and the self of character are born to supplement the mere sense 
(i) the self £ subiectivity and of power. The experiences that are ac- 

of memory ; •" -^ ■*■ 

cepted as true memories are at first largely such as meet accep- 
tance. The true, as distinguished from the imagined past, 
must stand the test of social criticism. Out of the judgments 
of others the child is led to construct the history of his life, his 
self of memory. But he does not continue to await the ver- 
dict of society before pronouncing on the validity of a mem- 
ory. Indeed, he discovers himself to be part of that judging 
society. Moreover, he finds internal as well as external tests 
of truth. The peculiar familiarity that belongs to memories 
and the coherence with the general current of his past are 
criteria which may overbear the opinions of others. Our 
companions would make us admit that we have done things 
that we feel sure we have not done. We learn that the inner 
world of experience is after all a private history, that only we 
ourselves can hope to read aright. 
(2) the self Especially are we convinced of this as we come more and 
more to realize our characters. The consciousness of one's 
character is at first a summation of the opinions of others. But 
we come to know that they may err in these judgments. They 
would make us feel as we do not feel, or have ideas, motives, 
powers that we know we do not possess. Introspection, pro- 
voked and guided by the awareness of objective attitudes 
toward the self, soon learns their inadequacy, their error, their 
injustice. Thus the sense of the private self, with its inner 
history, with its memories and its feelings, with its past and 
its ambitions, unsearchable by all save their possessor, comes 
to consciousness as representing the true character, the true self. 



ter 



Imitation 339 

The growth of the consciousness of personality, whether in (3) the 
self or others, means that community consciousness becomes wo^id'^^ 
objectified in a mysterious world of spirits that lies behind or 
beyond the objects of sense. These persons are seen to be 
fundamentally related to nearly all the practical emergencies 
of life. Their inner life becomes so absorbingly interesting as 
to reduce the physical world to a mere symboHsm of the mind 
that lies behind. It becomes the mechanism for the expres- 
sion, the spreading abroad, of certain phases of the inner 
Hfe. 

Thus through imitation there is developed a community imitation 
consciousness, which is again differentiated into the inner life ^^^^^^j ^ ^ ^ 
of personalities. Imitation controls the process of expansion norms 
in the mind of each individual, so that it proceeds along 
common lines and develops common concepts. This process of 
growth is governed by certain criteria, certain principles of 
selection or judgment. We may call these the social norms, 
and their discovery constitutes a third contribution of the imii- 
tative process to mental development. The simplest of these 
norms is that of the socially acceptable. By imitation the 
child comes to exert, as well as to feel, social pressure, and so 
to ascertain in his own person the motives, the principles, that 
lie behind it. If the child is not only to obey, but also to com- 
mand, not only to be condemned or approved, but also to judge 
and punish or reward, he must get behind the merely socially 
acceptable to the conditions that determine social practice. 
Thus he arrives at notions of the customary, the authoritative, 
the appropriate, the right. He differentiates the interests of 
self from those of others, and discovers those universal social 
standards that are above both. 

In his early conduct the standards of the child are uncriti- 
cally taken in. But as experience accumulates, there comes 
the strife of motives, the conflict of inconsistent criteria de- 



340 



Principles of Education 



The strife 
of motives 
and the 
rise of in- 
depen- 
dence 



The stand- 
ards re- 
ferred to 
an inner 
origin 



rived from different sources or even from the same source at 
different times. The child faces new situations in which these 
older principles find verification or confutation. He delib- 
erates, and in the logical processes that which has been earlier 
passively absorbed is subjected to an inner selection. Thus 
eventually he reaches the notion of right, which, as distin- 
guished from either the customary or the authoritative, seems 
to be the product of an inner self, a reason or conscience. 
Here we have that interplay of experience and reason, of the 
empirical and rational tests of truth, which was earlier re- 
ferred to in connection with the evolution of judgment. 

As we shall again take up these norms in connection with the 
social mechanism of imitation, we may here dismiss them with 
the remark that, even before they are subjected to rational 
criticism, they acquire a peculiar sense of having originated 
from within, because of the manner in which the imitative ac- 
tivity through which they are learned impresses the feehngs. 
Coming through the active process, they seem like a revela- 
tion of immediate experience. And, indeed, this view is not 
false to the ultimate facts. For while social intercourse and 
imitation may be the medium through which we come to 
realize the feelings, ideas, and standards of others, it is evi- 
dent that we must have the inherent power to feel and think 
and evaluate after the fashion of the models that we copy, or 
imitation would leave the inner life eventless. This is but a 
reiteration of the principle so frequently emphasized, that the 
conditions of life do not create the functions of the living, but 
rather select those that are suitable by eliminating the others. 
Imitation is a function that brings us into contact with the con- 
ditions of social life. It is primarily a selective activity, the 
special service of which is to encourage in the imitator the 
retention and cultivation of such thoughts and feelings as are 
peculiar to the mass of his fellows. It inducts us into the inner 



Imitation 341 

life of other personality, by helping us to distinguish the ex- 
periences that are representative of such life. 

We may sum up by saying that imitative activity is activity Summary 
directed along lines most likely to prove an aid to effective 
mental development. It puts us in a position where dis- 
crimination is necessary, and what we thus distinguish is pe- 
culiarly important in reference to the practical emergencies of 
life. It affords a great opportunity for adaptive reasoning. 
It helps us to conceive purposes, by revealing the value of 
imitation, thus giving rise to the purpose to imitate. It teaches 
us the value of effort. It affords among the imitating individu- 
als an interplay of feelings and emotions, ideas and motives that 
constitutes a social mind far more flexible and at the same time 
far more comprehensive and deliberative than the unaided 
mind of a single person. Through the feehngs that it pro- 
duces and the ideas that they suggest, it leads us to distin- 
guish the social elements, the self and other selves, with their 
private subjective life of feeling, motive, ideals, character. 
From these insights we gradually build up a consciousness of 
the social norms, the customary, the authoritative, the ap- 
propriate, the right. All these criteria are transmuted by the 
experience of imitation, and especially by the aid of logical 
reorganization on the part of each individual, into standards 
of the inner subjective self. 

Section 38. Social mechanism of imitation 

In the last section we approached the subject of imitation 
from the point of view of the individual, of the subjective 
life. There remains to consider it from the standpoint of 
objective, social activity. The 'social mechanism of imita- 
tion is the essence of social heredity, and so the basic form of 
education. 



342 



Principles of Education 



Society as an 
interplay 
of imita- 
tions 



Imitation 
spreads in 
geometri- 
cal pro- 
gression 



Opposition 
and adap- 
tation 



The epoch-making writer on this subject is M. Tarde.^ To 
him, society in the last analysis consists essentially of the inter- 
play of imitations. Uniformity, law, reduces itself in the 
physical world to the repetitions of vibration, in the biological 
realm to those of heredity, and in the world of psychology to 
those of imitation. Forms of activity appearing in the begin- 
nings of human history have been by countless generations imi- 
tatively reproduced, until they have come to play a part in the 
conduct of the civilized man of to-day. Models for imitation 
spread in all directions, like the waves from a point of dis- 
turbance in the water. Not only do they extend in space, but 
also in time, for what one does he himself imitates later, 
and ultimately incites another generation to reproduce. Self- 
imitation shows itself physically in habit, mentally in memory. 
In short, psychological continuity rests primarily upon the 
imitative process. 

Such, at a glance, is the conception of Tarde, and we must 
admit that it is striking, and that it affords at least an impor- 
tant aspect of truth. The fundamental phases of the activity 
of imitation Tarde analyzes as follows: First of all, each imi- 
tator becomes himself a center for the spread of the model. 
What one does a number imitate, and each of these, we may 
assume, will on the average be imitated by an equal number. 
Thus the model is spread abroad in geometrical progression. 
The inevitable consequence is that various models should come 
in conflict with each other. Any individual will find himself 
a member of different imitating groups, as it were. He will 
apprehend successively different activities, and the tendency 
to imitate the new will come in conflict with that to reproduce 
the old. Thus we have what Tarde calls opposition. But 
opposition does not mean the mere paralysis of the activities 
that come in conflict. Rather do they struggle, with the result 

^ Les Lois de I'Imiiation. 



Imitation 



343 



that either the one or the other is victorious, or a compromise 
is effected. In any case, it may be said that the resolution of 
any such opposition tends to be in the direction of adaptation. 
Thus imitation becomes the parent, as it were, not only of 
continuity, but also of variation, and an agency fundamentally 
conservative proves a most fertile source of originality. 

It is evident that the situation here described by Tarde corre- 
sponds to that in which ideational readjustment evolves. The 
factors which we have traced in that process we may again 
note in their objective aspect as we study the interplay of 
models for imitation. To begin with, there are two typical 
results of a struggle of models. First, there may be a waver- 
ing of attention to and fro among the patterns suggested by 
memory, with an ultimate ascendancy of one, and a sinking of 
the others into a more or less permanent oblivion. Second, 
these patterns may combine into new schemes of action, 
having some of the elements of each. It is likely that as a 
rule any conflict results in an activity that may be said to be 
predominantly the reproduction of one model, but not without 
influence from others. Ideation concludes in the victory of a cer- 
tain plan, but the others are not quite banished. Instead, they 
remain to affect, wherever this is easy, the details of its execution. 

In its earliest phase, the struggle of models is determined 
by forces of which the imitator is not clearly conscious. On 
the subjective side we note three such influences: instinct, 
habit, and the intensity of the impressions. One's nature may 
make it especially easy for him to imitate certain models. It 
is likely that the Indian finds it inherently more easy to copy 
his wild Hfe than the ways of civilization. However this may 
be, it seems clear that children in the same environment in- 
stinctively prefer different models. So far as observation has 
gone, it is almost impossible to disentangle the preferences 
due to instinct from those dependent on habit. Undoubtedly, 



The conflict 
of models 
as a strug- 
gle to seize 
the atten- 
tion. 

Settlement 
by ascen- 
dancy or 
by com- 
promise 



Unconscious 
forces that 
control at- 
tention : 
(i) sub- 
jective 
influences, 
instinct, 
habit, and 
intensity of 
impres- 
sions ; 



344 Principles of Education 

as a rule, they combine. Children are led by early and con- 
stant association to form the habits of family and race. These 
are the activities to which one may suppose their hereditary 
nature predisposes them. 

As against the forces of heredity and habit, a keen mental 

sensitivity operates to secure attention to variant models. 

The more alert the mind, the more intense a novel stimulus 

may become. Hence, as intelligence evolves, the possibility 

of breaking the grip of heredity and habit by new and striking 

models increases. 

(2) objective Corresponding to these subjective influences, we have the 

custom"nd objcctivc oncs of custom and prestige. Custom reenforces 

prestige. by iteration the tendency of a model to seize attention and to 

"intensity bccome a habit. Variant models are submerged by the one 

of impres- prevailing type. On the other hand, prestige may lend these 

sion and by o ^ i. rr • i 1 i i 

prestige in- unusual patterns a force that enables them effectively to hold 
dicative of ^^ attention. It is evident that with the growth of power of 

advancing " ^ 

intelligence consciousness, the novel and the striking will become more 
clearly differ ntiated from the customary, and it will become 
increasingly possible for the individual to feel the influence of 
prestige. Preferential imitation is a function of developing 
intelligence. At first, however, prestige is not the result of 
the possession on the part of the model of attributes which are 
clearly recognized as good reasons for preferential imitation. 
It depends upon force of manner or such practical success in 
the contests of social life as compels attention. The conqueror 
must be observed, and a striking personality is part of his equip- 
ment. One imitates unreflectively the person with prestige, 
yet there is, doubtless, a general gain from such activity. If 
prestige goes with success, it makes likely the imitation of that 
which produced the success. If it is an attribute of leadership, 
it makes for that cooperation with the leader by which society 
is made strong. 



Imitaiion 345 

The control of attention and of imitation by prestige is the Conflict 
immediate forerunner of reflective, critical imitation. As ^defg 
we have seen, it is dependent upon considerable intelligence, withpres- 
and it also opens an opportunity for such variation as is apt to Rise of judg- 
force upon the alert mind the value or lack of value of imitation. ™^°' 
As prestige wars with custom, so it wars with itself. Many com- 
pete for recognition, for leadership ; and while the struggle is 
at first not settled by an appeal to critical judgment as to the 
relative excellence of rival aspirants, nevertheless, such com- 
parisons are instituted, and with the progress of time they 
become more constant and thoroughgoing. The judgment is 
likely first to attack the problem of the general effectiveness 
of an individual. When this is once established, prestige follows, 
and it extends to all the acts of the person who possesses 
it. At this stage there is no tendency to question each of these 
acts on its own merit as a desirable model for imitation. 

The appearance of consciousness as to the value of imitation Rise of con- 
and critical judgment in reference to the models that are fol- approved 
lowed means the formulation as standards of judgment of the prestige or 
various factors that have proved effective in the control of 
unrefiective imitation. Thus custom becomes a recognized 
justification for certain models, while the natural or supposed 
supernatural abilities of certain individuals are held to give them 
supreme rehability as patterns for action or thought. The 
idea of the authoritative appears. The authoritative, whether 
it be custom or the practice of an authoritative individual, 
gains, because it is consciously recognized as a standard, addi- 
tional prestige, or compelling force. 

The reflective determination of the authoritative means the Support of 
appearance in society of a conscious endeavor to sustain and bysanc- 
to enforce its control. The authoritative is sanctioned; tions 
that is, a penalty is inflicted upon those who do not conform. 
This sanction is the natural method by which society compels 



346 



Principles of Education 



Natural not 
distin- 
guished 
from arti- 
ficial sanc- 
tions 



Social, re- 
ligious, 
and legal 
sanctions 



Instinctive 
basis of 
the social 
sanction 



the individual to obey customs that are in the interest of the 
estabhshed order. But it is not limited to this use. It is 
applied indiscriminately to practices that are not of any critical 
importance to society. The sanction of the laws of nature, 
which bring to grief all who violate them, are not distinguished 
from the sanctions wielded by man to render his commands 
authoritative. Indeed, since nature is at first regarded as 
under the control of supernatural wills, there is no recognition 
of an essential distinction between the authority of natural 
and that of human law. It is not seen that one is inevitable, 
and the other capable of being changed as man sees fit. 

The sanctions that society employs to strengthen or create 
authority may be roughly divided into social, religious, and 
legal. The social sanction consists of the neglect, the ridicule, 
the abuse, the ostracism, the indiscriminate injury to person 
and property that society tends to inflict on those who depart 
from its ways. The religious sanction consists in that disfavor 
which the supernatural powers are supposed to visit upon those 
who fail to conform to their customs. When society through an 
established machinery of justice punishes those who violate 
enacted law, we have the legal sanction. 

Of all these the social sanction is, on the whole, least a result 
of deliberation, and the legal sanction most so. Indeed, there 
is probably among men a sort of instinct for conformity to cus- 
tom, which displays itself negatively in the scorn and hatred 
of the innovator. Such an instinct would be closely allied to 
the aesthetic sense, which early appears in a fondness for the 
conventional. Thus aesthetic pleasure is largely the ease and 
sense of harmony that one feels in observing the familiar order 
of things. The instinct for the conventional is, of course, 
a powerful agency to reenforce the natural effect upon atten- 
tion and imitation of the constant repetitions of custom. It 
manifests itself in the social sanctions, and in that form becomes 



Imitation 



347 



an object of conscious fear on the part of any who are tempted 
to fall away from prevailing practice. 

The rehgious sanction, like the social one, operates to produce 
conformity and social soHdarity. We have earlier - discussed 
the value of religious belief as an agency for social control. 
The religious sanctions evolve naturally, and unreflectively 
they become attached to such conduct as makes for social 
efi&ciency. In the struggle for existence the group with whom 
rehgion is a most effective agent for cooperation will, as a rule, 
survive. Men realize the greater prosperity that goes with 
certain types of religion, and naturally attribute it to the 
special favor of the gods toward such as conform to their will, 
rather than to the increased efficiency that springs from this 
obedience. 

The legal sanction is superior to the social and religious sanc- 
tions in possessing the advantage of statement in the form of 
positive law, together with that of established machinery for 
its enforcement. Indeed, the addition of these two factors con- 
verts social and religious sanctions into legal ones. Custom 
and religion tend to evolve into legalism. The explicitness 
of positive law and of the method of its enforcement brings 
directly before intelligence the nature and purpose of its sanc- 
tions, and the fact that they can be wielded by the human will 
in the interest of any social practice. The authoritativeness 
of custom and of religious practice are not felt to be a result 
of human intention, but rather of some law superior to human 
judgment. In them mankind simply adds his sanction to the 
inevitable. But when legal sanctions appear, authority is 
traced to its source in human will, and judgment is evoked 
in order that the power that resides in control of the sanctions 
may be used most advantageously, either for the social group 
in general, or at any rate for its leaders. Thus legalism means 

^ Compare § 14. 



Natural 
evolution 
of the re- 
ligious 
sanction 



The legal 
sanction 
more evi- 
dent than 
the others. 
It becomes 
recognized 
as arti&cial 



348 



Principles of Education 



Rise of con- 
scious tyr- 
anny 
through 
the con- 
trol of 
sanctions 



The struggle 
for the con- 
trol of 
sanctions. 
Appeal to 
reason 



the evolution of authoritativeness into the stage of clearly 
conscious control. 

This intelligent comprehension of the meaning of authority 
involves two new attitudes. In the first place, men come to 
recognize clearly the difference between the inevitable laws of 
Nature or of God, which they need to know but cannot con- 
trol, and those customs and laws that are subject to human 
will, and can, therefore, be manipulated. In the second place, 
they recognize the remarkable value of control over the sanc- 
tions as an agency for exploitation. The evolution of leader- 
ship and of privileged classes is in no small measure facilitated 
by the growth of sanctions, and since such individuals or 
groups possess as a rule superior intelligence, they quickly 
learn the source of their power and come to exercise it in the 
interest of self or of class. Thus intellectual growth favors 
cunning, and the rule of priest or aristocrat evolves into tyr- 
anny. 

This sort of a condition contains within itself, however, the 
seeds of its own destruction. For it means such a struggle for 
control, such variety of motive among those who control, 
and such a critical discussion of the justification of law, as 
inevitably leads to a general knowledge on the part of aU classes, 
the exploited as well as those who exploit, of the significance 
of the edicts of human authority. Warring individuals or 
classes struggle for dominance in the state, and with their 
varying claims and laws force upon the attention the fact that 
law depends upon human will, and that it may be wielded in 
the interest not of society, but rather of the men who make it. 
Moreover, many leaders aim to justify their rule by showing 
that their laws conform to the higher laws of Nature and of 
God, or, what is taken to mean the same thing, the welfare 
of their people. Thus, in endeavoring to show that with them 
the two types of law conform, they emphasize the distinction 



Imitation 349 

between them. Many leaders earnestly desire to rule that they 
may make positive law in the interest of general welfare, or 
what they regard as the will of God. The attack upon the 
tyrant often comes from members of his own class, or even 
from those who are favored by tyranny. Thus the struggle 
of contending forces for the coveted control of the sanctions 
leads to a mass of conflicting views. Human reason flounders 
among the reasons that are offered to support existing or pro- 
posed laws, or the rule of this or that man or group of men. 
Each individual sees the social situation partly from the point 
of view of his antecedents and his culture, partly from that of 
his special interests, and partly from that of a fairly general 
survey of all the conflicting arguments for and against the 
established order. The priest or the lawgiver, even though 
he may be dealing with religious faith or legal enactment 
according to what he thinks is the righteousness of God or the 
principles of absolute justice, is apt to overemphasize his spe- 
cialty. The one offers to man a form of worship that arrogates 
to itself supremacy over all other interests, the other turns law 
into a mechanism, not so much for improving the welfare of 
society as for enhancing the majesty of law itself. Thus each 
in all sincerity worshiping his God or his law takes an attitude 
that a critic may regard as an hypocritical mask to cloak the 
service of self. Meanwhile the governed and exploited multi- 
tude, by nature and training submissive, partly accept the 
offered justification of their government and partly yield 
obedience to what they regard as an inevitable exploitation. 

The goal of all this interplay of opinion is the authority of Repiace- 
truth. The truly proper is contrasted with the customary, ^^^\^l. 
and men seek that which taste must universally approve, tomary 
The truly sacred is contrasted with the traditional religious ^^^ 
worship, or with that of this or that cult. The conception 
of absolute principles of justice behind any established code 



350 Principles of Education 

appears to inspire the reformer. Thus the sanctions of man's 
will are shifted about and fitted to that which his judgment 
declares to have the authority of reason and experience. One 
may wonder what need there is of human sanctions, if they 
are made to enforce that which itself yields to man his highest 
welfare. However, there remains the need of cooperation and 
of universal adherence to that which makes for the common 
ends. Since society contains those who lack intelligence, it 
must needs constrain them by man-made sanctions to do the 
wise. Since it contains those who lack conscience, it is com- 
pelled to coerce them into conduct that benefits rather than 
injures their fellows. 
Summary In resume, the social mechanism of imitation resolves itself 

into the spread of models in geometrical progression, their 
interference and opposition, and, finally, adaptation, or the 
resolution of struggle. Thus the individual, in being the center 
of an unique group of Hnes of imitation, becomes a variant in 
education, just as he is a variant in heredity because of diverse 
strains of ancestry. A struggle of models may be concluded 
by the victory of one, or by compromise. The process is one 
that conforms to the conditions of ideational readjustment. 
The principles of selection are at first unconsciously operative. 
They take, from the subjective point of view, the form of hered- 
itary preference, habit, and sensitivity to the new and unusual. 
The latter factor may, when it is keen, overbear the two former 
ones in control over attention and imitation. Objectively, 
the selective forces in imitation are custom and prestige. The 
appreciation of prestige involves keen sensitivity and alertness 
and considerable intelligence. Through them prestige can 
overwhelm custom. Since prestige involves intelligence, its 
causes are apt to be noted. Their recognition converts pres- 
tige into authority, and enhances its potency. Moreover, 
the consciousness of authority leads men to sanction it, or to 



Imitation 



351 



punish those who depart from it. The sanctions are social, 
rehgious, and legal. The social sanctions are least reflective, 
being largely a matter of mere instinct to attack the uncon- 
ventional. The legal sanctions are most reflective, and lead 
to a recognition of the power men have of creating the author- 
itative by applying the sanctions. The utilization of this 
power for exploitation or social betterment leads to conflict 
and a gradual struggle of society toward law which shall con- 
form to the truth and make for general human welfare. Thus 
the final authority is seen to rest in reason working with the 
evidence of practice as to the methods of dealing with nature 
and organizing society that are most effective for attaining 
the ends of human life. 

Section 39. Imitation in the history of education 

The evolution of the selective forces that determine the con- 
flicts of imitation proceeds from heredity and habit to intensity 
of the stimulus, from custom to prestige and authority, and 
from the social, religious, and legal sanctions to those of natural 
law and common welfare as evident to scientific judgment. The 
entire movement means advance from conservatism to progres- 
siveness and rationality. The study of this movement in the 
actual history of education reveals several factors that help in 
the interpretation of the process of imitation in the typical 
education of to-day. 

The development of adaptability is everywhere throughout 
evolution beset by such conservative checks as are necessary 
to safeguard the species or the society. The rise of intelli- 
gence threatens society with individualism, but the sanctions 
of authority, the tyranny of institutional life, prevent anarchy 
by suppressing originality and variation until the race has accu- 
mulated adequate experience and acquired a critical sense, 



Growth of 
progres- 
siveness in 
the selec- 
tion of 
models 



Authority as 
a check to 
the disin- 
tegrating 
effects of 
growing in- 
telligence 



352 



Principles of Education 



Conserva- 
tism of 
early 
education 



Resulting 
social selec- 
tion of the 
docile and 
those fond 
of form 



Early edu- 
cation 
as largely 
social 
training 



such as enables genuine self-government. Early education is 
of necessity intensely conservative, because any other type 
would weaken social solidarity, and hence threaten social 
efficiency. 

This conservatism involves a social selection of m.en on the 
basis of docility, on the one hand, and fondness for form, on 
the other. Docility means imitativeness and submissiveness. 
It means the capacity to learn from others, which in turn in- 
volves such intellectual power as makes possible the compre- 
hension of what they do and think, and the physical and mental 
aptitude to repeat their performances. It also means receptiv- 
ity, or the willingness to place one's self in an attitude of in- 
terested attention to others, and that yielding disposition which 
interposes few obstacles in the way of the imitative tendency 
set in motion by such attention. The struggle to conquer, 
that prevails in pre-civilized conditions, is replaced more and 
more by a struggle to conform, for society offers its rewards 
to those who excel in the latter contest. 

Fondness for form means a love of imitation, custom, con- 
vention for its own sake, or for the sake of its aesthetic appeal. 
As has been suggested, it is even possible that the aesthetic 
sense is in part, at least, a product of the fondness for form 
that early civilization finds so advantageous.^ However this 
may be, it is certain that society is made more conserva- 
tive and secure by the existence of a devotion not merely to 
the spirit, but also to the letter of the law and the precedent. 

In addition to its conservatism, the conscious public edu- 
cation of early civilization is also, as a rule, confined largely to 
social training. This subject was treated in an earlier section.^ 
Here we may reiterate the principle that society finds the train- 
ing that makes for social solidarity and social efficiency so 
valuable both for the community and the individual that all 
^ Compare § 38. * Compare § 14. 



Imitation 



353 



energy is bent toward making it effective. Hence, early edu- 
cation begins with a curriculum of social customs, ethics, and 
religion, which expands into literature and art, theology and 
philosophy, and finally into science for its own sake rather than 
for its practical uses. 

The forces that lead away from mere conservatism and 
devotion to social convention may be classified into two groups : 
the internal and the external. Within any society, no matter 
how conservative it may be, there are agencies making for 
an ultimate break with tradition and custom. First of all, 
the very quality of docility that helps so effectively the 
growth of uniformity and conservatism, when the conditions 
are such that all variant standards are suppressed, becomes 
under different circumstances a basis for swift change and, 
indeed, revolution. Receptivity, imitativeness, renders one 
not only susceptible to customary influences, but also to any 
new suggestions that may appear. Thus originality is itself, 
as we have seen, often a product of the imitation that takes 
in and reproduces a number of ideas or forms of action, and 
from these develops new plans and methods. In placing a 
selection value upon docility that it may protect itself against 
revolution, society is only preparing the way for more rapid 
modification, when once the force of those sanctions that make 
for uniformity grows less. When models are many and various, 
an imitating society is a progressive one. The achievements 
of the Japanese are a remarkable illustration of this fact. 

Again, no society is able to preserve itself in exactly that posi- 
tion for which the customs fostered by conservatism are suited. 
Conservatism, like heredity and habit, prevents an adaptation 
from being hastily modified or eliminated. But the habits or 
adaptations of society, like those of the individual, are illus- 
trations of that principle of the inertia of growth which has 
been earlier discussed. The progress of specialized growth 

2A 



Internal 
forces 
making for 
progress : 
(i) imita- 
tiveness ; 



(2) the 
inertia of 
growth 



354 Principles of Education 

that creates the custom does not cease when it is formed. 
The forces that give rise to aristocracies turn them into ohgar- 
chies. Religion ceases to content itself with that strength 
which enables it to preserve order and to develop humanity. 
It endeavors to terrorize in the interest of a spiritual life at 
variance with human conditions. Law grows into a strength 
that enables it to maintain justice, and from thence into 
further strength that involves tyranny. Thus internal forces 
that produce adaptation continue to operate after adjust- 
ment is gained and ultimately result in lack of adaptation. 
Society outgrows its institutions, and the very endeavor to 
maintain them only renders the ultimate disparity between the 
function and the mechanisms, the need and the method of 
meeting it, more apparent. In such an unstable condition, 
slight influences often suffice to render men conscious of the 
maladjustment, and to rouse an active demand for revolution. 
External Thus it is that internal forces operative in conservative 

uTuaU the civilizatious pave the way for change by creating character- 
occasion istics and conditions that make such transformation all the 
vance more rapid and eager when once alien ideas and customs 
find an entrance. It is these external agencies, however, 
that historically have afforded the occasion for revolution 
and progress. Early civilization seeks seclusion: It hides 
itself behind deserts, and mountains, and bodies of water, and, 
when these fail, it may try to construct artificial barriers, 
like the Chinese wall. In such security the sanctions of 
authority get an opportunity to produce an extraordinary 
amount of homogeneity. When, however, the course of his- 
tory brings foreigners across the seas or over the mountains 
and waste places, when the barriers are broken down, then 
these sanctions are valueless unless the system they maintain 
proves effective in expelling the invader. 

But even wandering nations do not at first come into suffi- 



Imitation 



355 



ciently close contact \\'ith those whom they meet to render 
imitation on a large scale operative. It is not mere physical 
proximity, but rather the form of social intercourse which 
prevails that determines the extent to which peoples absorb 
ideas and customs from each other. Among the most im- 
portant of these t}pes of social intercourse are (i) war, con- 
quest, and government ; (2) commerce and colonization ; 
(3) travel ; and (4) study of foreign culture. 

The wars of early mankind are usually wars of extermina- 
tion. Yet, in spite of this, they bring about a keen attention 
to such devices as are employed by adversaries in combat. 
As Tarde points out, such methods and instrumentahties of 
war as are effective are speedily copied whenever this is pos- 
sible. War converts indifferent obser\^ation into an attentive 
interest in at least one important aspect of the Hfe and behavior 
of foreign peoples. Such interest and attention is broadened 
when wars of extermination are replaced by wars of conquest. 
To enslave a people, or to make them pay tribute, requires 
far more knowledge of their customs and characteristics than 
simply to annihilate them. Again, when these forms of 
exploitation are replaced by more enlightened government 
imder a power that endeavors to establish an universal peace 
like the Pax Romana, and to insure the good \\ill of its prov- 
inces by granting them a share in the government, indeed, by 
making their people citizens, recruiting armies from them, 
opening to them offices, and granting them self-government, — 
when these measures appear, then the nations involved are 
brought into intimate intercourse and exchange points of view 
and the practices of peace as well as those of war. 

In a general way, commerce and the colonization by which 
it is extended and fostered constitute a step in advance of 
war and conquest so far as educational influence is concerned. 
For here there is a study of supply and demand, and the tastes 



Types of ex- 
ternal con- 
tact illus- 
trating 
the growth 
of interest 
in the 
foreign 



(i) War, 
conquest, 
and gov- 
ernment; 



(2) com- 
merce and 
coloniza- 
tion; 



356 Principles of Education 

and resources upon which they are based. The advantages 
that spring from trade lead to a more extensive exploration 
of the world, and a more intensive study of the desires and 
capacities of different races of men than do those of conquest. 
In general, the development of trade is the most important 
stimulus to world conquest and government. 

(3) travel ; If we exclude from travel the search for the necessities of 

life, or for people to conquer or plunder, or with whom to 
trade, it is unknown to primitive men, and even to races well 
advanced in civilization. It means an enormous advance 
in attentive survey of the inner and outer Kfe of foreign peoples. 
For the genuine traveler studies others not merely to barter 
with them, but because their differences are in themselves 
found curious and interesting. From Herodotus, unique in 
his generation, to the spirit of pilgrimage that survived 
the Crusades means a long step in the growth of interest in 
strange people and places. And an equally extensive advance 
is involved in attaining to the love of "globe-trotting" current 
in the modern world. 

(4) study of Finally, men come to realize that foreign people are interest- 
raiture i^S> 1^0^ merely because their ways are strange and curious, 
by the but bccausc thesc may be better than those in vogue at home. 

school ... 

The earliest important example of a conscious recognition 
of such superiority, and a deliberate adoption of another 
culture, is to be found in the Roman imitation of the Greeks. 
"Captive Greece took captive her rude conqueror" because of 
the manifest superiority of her art, her literature, and her 
philosophy. So, too, the Renaissance was captivated by the 
culture of antiquity and sought, not merely in another race, 
but in a vanished civilization, the customs and ideals that it 
would follow. Such imitation was merely that of the culti- 
vated life of an aristocracy. The cultivated class is invariably 
the first to rise to the cosmopolitan attitude of borrowing from 



Imitation 357 

others whatever seems best and, indeed, of looking elsewhere 
for the best. However, long before mankind set itself con- 
sciously to the task of finding additions to its philosophy, or 
science, or literature, or art, or institutional life among foreign 
peoples, a vague sense of the resourcefulness of the stranger 
became current. It is a common tradition that traces new 
developments in thought or institutional life to a wise man who 
has sojourned in a distant land, — a Lycurgus or a Pythagoras. 
The attitude back of such ideas ascribes to other nations strange 
arts, magic, the power to achieve those desirable things that 
have so far baffled the abilities of the race. 

The spirit of this superstition is rationalized in modern life The culture 
and education, when all study and research involves material son andoie 
drawn from all people who are judged to have achieved stand- study of 
ard results in the given field, and when no important enterprise ° ^'^ 

is undertaken without a careful survey of the most successful 
methods, in so far as these are available for inspection. Thus 
each new departure is a focal point for lines of imitation often 
world-wide in origin. Such a focalization of divergent material 
is the first step in the method of the school or the study that 
aims to cultivate the reason. Applications of this concep- 
tion are found in the methods of development and of discussion 
in teaching, in the formal step of comparison, and in the 
reference work and comparative methods used in all subjects. 
The work of the modern school seems, from the standpoint Habit- 
of imitation, to be divided into two factors. The one consists ^d 'ra^ 
of standardized material capable of being applied somewhat tionaiizing 
mechanically in the prevailing environment. Such material school 
is presented without subjecting the pupil to variant models. ^^""'^ 
The teaching environment becomes in reference to it the 
uniform environment of mere recapitulatory education. The 
other factor consists of the ideas, the principles, the habits 
that need constant adaptation to new conditions. Such mate- 



358 Principles of Education 

rial should be presented with the widest diversity of point of 
view and practice, that the way may be opened for genuine 
opposition and adaptation. 
Summary The history of education, then, reveals a transition from 

isolated, conservative civiUzations, where all models are reduced 
as far as possible to uniformity, to civilizations that encourage 
contact with others, and a persistent attempt to search far 
and wide for the best models in thought and action. In the 
conservative stage the forces of selection favor the develop- 
ment of imitativeness and receptivity. Hence it happens 
that when such a people has so far outgrown its institutions 
, that change becomes inevitable, or when the exigencies of war 
force a contact with foreign races, it has evolved a character 
that enables it to absorb quickly from others whatever may 
there be found. The intercourse of peoples develops through 
the stages of war, conquest, and government ; commerce and 
colonization ; travel ; and study of foreign culture. The 
last two have come to be definitely recognized as essentially 
educative. The modern progressive school aims, in so far 
as it transmits such standardized material as can be apphed 
without thought, to present only uniform models, but, in so far 
as it aims at readjustment and power of adaptation, it strives 
to make of itself a meeting place for widely divergent lines of 
imitation. 



CHAPTER XII 

LANGUAGE 

Section 40. Oral language and the development of thought 

Of all the results of imitation, articulate language is that intcrdcpend- 
which is most closely identified with the genesis and the func- ^^H^^^ ind 
tioning of reason. So closely allied are the rational and the language 
linguistic forms that the Greeks employed one term, logos, 
for both word and reason, and Max Miiller places on the title 
page of his book on the Science of Thought the expression 
"No reason without language, no language without reason." 

The inseparability of reason and language that is here as- its basis in 
serted is based on the relation between the word and the con- ciaUon^of 
cept. We have already seen that the concept is fundamental in word and 
reasoning, because through it alone are we able deliberately 
to adapt old measures to new uses.* The concept is experience 
in that form which is most usable in the analysis, the diagnosis 
of novel situations. That the word is a most important aux- 
iliary in enabling us to attain and to use the general idea 
can scarcely be denied. The Nominalism that would assert 
that the concept is "speech and nothing more" has passed 
away, yet psychologists have agreed in a newer Nominalism, 
to which Locke may be said to have led the way. According 
to this, although it is admitted with the Conceptualist that 
the general idea does exist in the mind in some sense, at any 
rate, apart from the particulars in which it inheres, neverthe- 

* Compare § 30. 
359 



concept 



i6o 



Principles of Education 



Three ways 
in which 
language 
assists 
thinking 



(i) Language 
in its 
higher 
forms as 
compelling 
reasoning 



Meanings 
conveyed 
by expres- 
sive cries 



less, without tlic aici of words the process of abstraction would 
be practically impossible. 

If we were to endeavor to formulate the ways in which lan- 
guage fosters the development of conscious learning, we might 
distinguish the following : (i) language in the form of articu- 
late speech compels constant reasoning, by forcing analysis 
of new situations into familiar concepts in order that they may 
be communicated ; (2) the word increases enormously the 
power of the mind to remember, and hence to deal effectively 
with the concept ; (3) language brings social consciousness and 
social heredity to bear upon the mind of the individual. 

(i) The need for expression is one of the most fundamental 
in human life. But one does not go very far in communica- 
tion before he encounters the necessity of reasoning in order 
to make clear to others what he wishes to express. The tran- 
sition from the expressive cries of the brute or the babe to the 
articulate speech of the child means, from the mental point of 
view, the passage from instinct and simple association to genu- 
ine reasoning. Expressive cries indicate primarily only feel- 
ings and desires. Indirectly they may communicate percep- 
tions and ideas. If a peculiar emotion can arise only in a 
certain sort of a situation, then the cry that expresses the 
emotion carries the idea of the associated circumstances. 
Such a notion must of necessity be vague until it is cleared 
up by direct observation of these circumstances on the part 
of the individuals who hear the cry. The expression functions 
in arousing feelings. These in turn provoke vigorous responses 
useful to one or both of the communicating animals or to 
the species. The specific character of these responses is de- 
termined largely by data revealed by further observations on 
the part of the individual who makes the movements. 

Articulate, or jointed, speech, on the contrary, appeals pri- 
marily to cognition. It consists of words, each of which 



Language 36 1 

without exception indicates a more or less generalized group 
of elements in experience, i.e.^ a concept. Communication is 
effected by analyzing a situation into such general elements 
as can be indicated by words. These words are then spoken, 
and the ideas that they suggest are in turn synthesized by the 
hearer, who thus arrives at a representation of the original 
concrete experience of the speaker. Feeling and action follow 
the cognitive reproduction of the experience. Thus the men- 
tal process in attending to articulate speech reverses that pro- 
voked by the expressive cry. The latter hurries immediately to 
the goal of communication, which is that of stirring up vigorous 
activity. It leaves to the actor the problem of determin- 
ing by his own observations and inferences the detailed char- 
acter of this activity. It calls for help, but trusts to the res- 
cuer to discover what help means and how it may best be given. 
On the other hand, articulate speech proceeds more deliberately 
to create a cognitive state so clear and detailed that it enables 
the hearer without so much additional investigation to get 
the desired feelings and initiate the appropriate responses. 

It is evident that the expressive cry is limited to the commu- Genesis of 
nication of a few simple wants. It cannot transmit these with articulate 

^ speech in 

any delicacy of distinction. For this it is compelled to rely the child 
on secondary observations and inferences from accessory cir- 
cumstances. The expressive cry leaves communication largely 
dependent on the enterprise and intelHgence of the hearer. It 
is incapable of expressing the inner life with any detail. The 
development of articulate speech means the growth of a 
vocabulary that translates all that the expressive cry leaves 
to gesture, to observation, and to inference into the symbol- 
ism of words. Beginning with a few words, which are some- 
times called ''sentence words," and which seem more nearly 
akin to interjections or verbs in the imperative than to any other 
part of speech, the vocabulary of the child or of the race ex- 



362 



Principles of Education 



pands, because of the failure of these to express clearly new 
situations to which they are appHed. A new demand upon its 
powers of expression the child meets by an old word that seems 
most nearly to fit. The failure of this word to communicate 
successfully leads to the invention of modifying words to adapt 
it to this special case. Hence we have the rudiments of the 
sentence. Instead of seeking a new word for each new con- 
crete situation, the child finds a word to express that abstract 
phase of it which is different from cases where a mastered word 
appHes. Thus the endeavor to communicate leads immedi- 
ately to imperfect generalizations, and to correction of these 
through a process of analysis and abstraction. In order to 
express these new distinctions, new words appear. Ultimately, 
the instinctive expressions and those absorbed unreflectively 
by imitation come to be supplemented by words for which the 
child sets himself consciously in search. 

It is plain that with the development of articulate speech 
the child comes more and more to take rational attitudes. He 
comes to realize the need of understanding others or of being 
himself understood by them. When he wishes to communicate 
something new, he is aware of the necessity of reducing it 
to factors for which he possesses symbols. These symbols 
must be standard ones ; i.e.^ such as are commonly used to 
express the factors to which he appHes them. When put 
together, they must create a synthesis of thought which others 
will be capable of grasping. The demand for symbols and de- 
vices of phraseology is a summons upon his resources. The 
demand for intelligibihty in wording and in sentence con- 
struction is a stimulus to judgment. The language situation is 
a continual challenge upon both these powers, and it is under 
its influence that purposive thinking is, for the most part, 
brought into existence and developed to a high degree of 
excellence. 



Lartguage 



363 



As the child's power of expression increases, his sense of Growth of 



that which can be accompHshed through it becomes more 
pervading. The natural tendency is strengthened into an 
absorbing habit, behind which there Hes not only the social 
instincts, the desire for sympathy and for approbation, the 
love of social intercourse and of social service, but also the 
clear awareness of the enormous value of social agencies as a 
means of furthering almost any individual purpose. Lan- 
guage rapidly develops into one of the leading, if not, indeed, 
the leading activity of life. Power of getting on in a social 
environment is very closely dependent upon power of expres- 
sion through which one influences others, through which one 
gets into contact with society and makes it work his will. 

So strong is this interest in language that men come to talk for 
the sake of talking. Articulate speech, not limited to the ex- 
pression of a few vital situations where the need for action is 
immediate and imperative, becomes more and more concerned 
with the commimication of ideas to be used in future delibera- 
tion, or to enhance the interest of life in a highly social com- 
munity. The worlds of imagination, of reflection, of make- 
believe find new interest because supported by the social in- 
terplay that language makes possible. Men notice more the 
descriptive characteristics of things. A very large part of the 
quahties that we observe in our surroundings have very little 
if any significance except that through noting them descrip- 
tion can be made more effective. Through language we are 
elevated into that social, psychical world, into that world of 
mind behind the phenomena of sense, which straightway be- 
comes the vitally interesting, the genuinely real world, a world 
upon which all the activities are more and more brought to 
bear. 

(2) The use of language is not only the occasion for reason- 
ing, but it also does much to sustain that process by enabling 



compelling 
interest in 
communi- 
cation 



364 



Principles of Education 



(2) Language 
as an aid 
to memory, 
(a) in 
grasping 
and retain- 
ing sensory 
distinc- 
tions ; 



(6) in form- 
ing and 
retaining 
concepts 



US to seize by the attention and to hold in memory the con- 
cepts which it employs. In the mere matter of discriminat- 
ing qualities of sense the name is a valuable help. Professor 
Judd ^ mentions an interesting experiment, testing the power 
to discriminate different shades of gray. Ordinarily, only 
about five such shades can be distinguished with certainty. 
If, however, one attaches a name or a number to intervening 
shades, it is found that with a little practice the number of 
distinctions that can readily be identified is much increased. 
The word constitutes a reaction that cannot be correctly per- 
formed without holding in memory the quality to which it 
applies. Thus a motive is furnished for distinguishing and 
remembering this quality. Moreover, distinctions are better 
remembered by being anchored, as it were, to a concrete and 
clearly apprehended image, — that of the word. This asso- 
ciation tends to float an otherwise vaguely conceived element 
away from the similars that are confused with it. The word 
grips fast the distinction, and enables it to be held before at- 
tention until it produces a sufficiently intense impression to 
be clearly retained, and until it is associated well enough with 
its name to call that up when it appears and, indeed, to be 
itself recalled into consciousness by the mention of the name. 
Thus the word helps the memory, first, in the task of distin- 
guishing and identifying the object to which it applies, and 
second, in that of calling to mind the image or concept of this 
object. 

When we come to deal with concepts that are non-sensuous 
and represent a great number of relations, we find that the 
word becomes practically indispensable. In the midst of an 
ever shifting group of qualities, the word remains the sole 
fairly constant sensuous element. To take, as an example, the 
concept of a person; if one thinks of the extent of the changes 

^ Psychology, p. 261. 



Language 365 

that take place while an individual grows from infancy to 
maturity, one realizes how dependent upon the name is the 
idea of the continuity involved. The tenuous thread of that 
set of relationships which we call the personality could scarcely 
be held in mind in the midst of all the fluctuations of appear- 
ance, of powers, and even of qualities of character, were it not 
for the help of the image of that word that has throughout 
the years remained the one sensuous thing invariably at- 
tached to it. Our other reactions toward the individual have 
all changed superficially or profoundly. And if the name 
helps in distinguishing and in holding in memory the notion 
of a person, much more important is it in seizing firmly class 
concepts, such as that of horse^ or such abstractions as equality 
or nothing, where the sensuous images seem to have lost all 
value as a means of identification. It is the importance of 
this function of the word that led the Nominalist to maintain 
that its image is the only mental representative of the abstract 
universal element in experience. And, indeed, there would 
be no difficulty in estabhshing the existence of imageless 
thought,^ were it not for the almost or quite constant presence 
in such processes of the reverberating image of the words by 
which the distinctions involved are wont to be seized by the 
mind. 

On the other hand, no mistake could be more fundamental The word 
than that of confusing the word with the concept. The word toofbutb- 
is simply a tool by which the memory is able to hold its con- dispensable 
cepts firmly enough to define them, and to deal with them thought 
as distinct elements. This function is certainly important 
enough. If the concepts were not thus preserved by memory, 
it would be impossible to utilize them in ideational readjust- 
ment. The resources of the mind would be limited to naive 

^ Compare Woodworth, "The Consciousness of Relation," Essays Philosophical 
and Psychological in honor of William James. 



366 Principles of Education 

perception and imagination. The evolution of fertility of 
thought would be checked before it had attained that degree 
which makes possible reflectiveness. Hence, judgment could 
not arise to replace mere habit or feeling as a basis for decision. 
For judgment rests, as we have seen, on alternative courses 
clearly distinguished, on the sense that one can determine which 
is most reliable and which he will choose to follow, and, finally, 
on the presence of clearly conceived criteria. In short, idea- 
tional readjustment cannot advance beyond its rudimentary 
stages except by a system of concepts which can be held in 
memory only by the aid of language. 

(3) In a sense, this function of assisting memory is the most 
fundamental of all the uses of language in connection with 
the development of thought. It is the gain in resources which 
comes from the strengthening of memory that enables the lan- 
guage interest to grow into such an absorbing one, and hence 
to make such an appeal to the reason. Moreover, the acquisi- 
tion of these resources constitutes the act of taking possession 
of one's social heredity. The distinctions that we must seize 
in order to communicate are those which are common to 
society, and to learn them means to bring the mind into con- 
formity with the experience of the race. 
(3) Language Here we come to the third and most evident of the uses of 
portdto language. Speech breaks down the barriers between mind 
the social ^^^ mind, and extends the consciousness of the individual 

mind and . i i i • i • r i_ • 

social to cover, m some sort at least, the social consciousness 01 his 

heredity time. Moreovcr, since this social mind is constructed out 
of the past, one's thoughts become part of that stream of ex- 
perience which constitutes social heredity. He receives his 
spiritual inheritance through his mother tongue. 

All this is commonplace, and it is unnecessary to enlarge 
upon the enormous modification and gain that falls to the 
share of the individual in this process. It should be noted, 



Language 



2>^7 



however, that language represents the climax of imitation. 
Whatever was said of the latter process applies, therefore, to 
its specialized form. If imitation gives community action, 
feeling, and thought, language especially fosters cooperation 
and common consciousness. When we trace the consciousness 
of the social elements and of the social norms to imitation,^ 
we should remember that without taking the form of language 
it could not lead to this result. Moreover, like imitation, 
language cannot be regarded as directly increasing the re- 
sources of the individual. What it does is to guide thought. 
It is a selective agency. In the process of developing the pow- 
ers and accumulating valuable ideas, it is of the greatest im- 
portance that experimentation should be cut short. This is 
what imitation does. It furnishes as a rule only tested and 
approved models. The sanctions of imitation bring their aid 
to the elimination of all experiments, whether in thought or 
action, that do not copy these desirable methods. Instead 
of floundering and, perhaps, sinking in a bog of blind trial, and 
error, the body is led to effective control and the mind to 
accurate thought by following the selected path of its prede- 
cessors. 

Indirectly, this course results in an enormous gain of re- 
sources. Although words add nothing to the elements of our 
experience, they facilitate to such a degree its retention, 
analysis, and organization that we are enabled to amass a 
mental capital which transforms us into a new type of being. 
Language offers a path by which the individual is directed 
swiftly toward insights that the race has reached only after 
an incredible amount of wandering and toil. It is not merely 
that we are led through language to dwell upon especially 
available experience and to let the rest go. This selected 
experience has the additional qualities of being fundamental 

* Compare § 37. 



Language 
the highest 
phase of 
imitation 
and, in 
conse- 
quence, a 
selective 
agency 



Resulting 
gain in re- 
sources 



368 Principles of Education 

and conceptual. Hence it can be utilized in the greatest va- 
riety of new combinations, and it covers those relations by 
which experience is held in great systems. The formation of 
new systems and the tenacity of the memory for the system- 
atic involve positive and extraordinary gain in mental con- 
tent. For example, it is through language that we are enabled 
to construct the ideas of self and of others. In connection 
with the concept of self we build up a past. The concept of 
other selves extends this point into the realm of history. Thus 
the world of experience, past and future, is built up out of the 
simple experience of an individual life. It is differentiated 
into the world of personalities, that most interesting and ab- 
sorbing of all the interests of men. 
Summary In resumc, we may note that language aids in the develop- 

ment of thought by forcing us to reason, by enabling us to 
seize and to retain in memory concepts and systems of thought, 
and by introducing us through its selective influence into our 
social heredity. The need of communication leads us to general- 
ize. To render expression accurate, we are forced to analyze 
and to abstract the factors in experience. The elements 
thus revealed are held in memory by the assistance of the word. 
Through these mental advances we are led into that world of 
mind which lies behind the social environment, constituting 
its essence. This discovery enhances the instinctive interest 
in communication, and thus intensifies to an extraordinary 
degree the activity of reason and social interplay. 

Section 41. Social memory and written language 

Oral language strengthens the memory of the individual, 
not only by fixing in mind the concepts which the different 
words or idioms express, but also by reenforcing the memory 
of the individual for complex situations, events, laws, prin- 



Language 



369 



ciples, or practices through what may be called the memory of 
society. Where the power of one to recall the past falters or 
fails, that of another may be stronger. The corrected mem- 
ory of each tends toward that maximum established by the 
memory of the best endowed in respect to this faculty. In- 
deed, this collective memory is fundamental in fixing the 
meanings of words, and so in the process of holding in mem- 
ory meanings through their agency. If one is to be under- 
stood, he must always attach the same meaning to a word. 
Society is forever correcting our forgetfulness in regard to 
concepts by compelling us to use words in an uniform way. 

At first the social support of the memory of the individual 
is not consciously recognized. As the material held in col- 
lective memory increases, however, the use of its resources 
becomes more reflective. Certain individuals or classes, 
known to be well endowed in respect to retentiveness, be- 
come authoritative. Such people improve their position by 
deliberately committing to memory important facts or legends 
of history and the details of laws and customs. Often this 
task of the mind is lightened somewhat by the use of rhythm, 
alHteration, rhyme, or any other literary device whereby asso- 
ciations are made more effective and memory strengthened. 
Doubtless, in this fact is to be found an important, if not the 
fundamental, reason for the literary form in which the basic 
tradition of early civilizations is often preserved, especially 
before the advent of written language. Poetry flourishes, 
not merely because of its appeal to artistic taste, but also 
because of its assistance to memory. Thus the Homeric bards 
were enabled to preserve the fundamental ideals and traditions 
of the Greek people, because these were embodied in poetic 
form. Poetry tends to decline when at the advent of written 
language its function as an aid to memory practically dis- 
appears. 

2b 



Reenforce- 
ment of 
individual 
by social 
memory 
through 
oral lan- 
guage 



Rise of a 
class au- 
thoritative 
in matters 
of memory, 
and of de- 
vices for 
memoriz- 
ing 



370 



Principles of Education 



Advantage of 
written 
language 
among 
these de- 
vices 



Written lan- 
guage and 
the school 



Literacy as 
the mo- 
nopoly of 
a leisure 
class 



All the devices of oral memorizing are set at naught by the 
invention of written language. Here we have an instrumen- 
tality that surpasses the highest powers of the individual. 
It is true that it rests back on individual memory for the mean- 
ing of the words. However, there can be no doubt that when 
words are written they tend to assume a much greater fixity 
of interpretation than before. Various contexts determine a 
meaning closely. Thus manuscripts and inscriptions pre- 
serve their records faithfully through the ages, since by a com- 
parative study of their characters the meanings of these are 
made clear to the decipherer. Hence, it becomes very diffi- 
cult to distort the meaning of written words unconsciously, 
and conscious modification must be justified. Moreover, 
if written language helps in fixing the meaning of words, much 
more does it aid in preserving traditions, descriptions, laws, and 
usages, in short, all matters that involve many details and 
therefore require elaborate forms of expression. 

Thus collective memory becomes reenforced by an agency 
that expands almost indefinitely its powers. But in order to 
utilize this instrument, the school becomes necessary. We 
have already traced the rise of this institution from the primi- 
tive exercises of adolescence.^ The factor of instruction in 
tradition, law, and belief, which enters therein, gradually 
increases in amount. It becomes impossible for any save 
those who have especial talent, and who devote themselves 
largely to the task, to learn all that is thus preserved. Hence 
oral tradition becomes the property of a class, an instrument 
of authority, a means of social control, and subject to what- 
ever modifications this class may, from interested or other 
motives, see fit to introduce. But even to such a class oral com- 
munication may finally break down as a means of preserving 
its treasures. Pictorial representation becomes convention- 

^ Compare § 13. 



Language 



371 



alized and the ideograph invented, doubtless, largely as a re- 
sult of a constantly groMsing fear that memory, in spite of all 
precautions, may play one false, or to reheve the intolerable 
burden that accumulating material places upon it. With 
most people a knowledge of writing has remained for many 
ages the exclusive property of a select class, the members of 
which have the leisure, the abihty, and the opportunity to 
receive instruction in it. Among them the school as we know 
it — that is, an institution the primary purpose of which is to 
develop hteracy — appears. The monopoly of power to read 
stiU further exalts the authority of the learned class. 

Thus devotion to the task of memorizing, and the inven- 
tion of de\-ices to aid it. culminating in written language and 
the school, are bound up with the development of a special- 
ized literan,^ caste. Writing at first tends to increase their 
authority. Ultimately, it tends to destroy this. For written 
language can be learned so much more easily than the mass of 
tradition can be committed to memor}' that independent ac- 
cess to the treasur}- of the past is made possible to a wider 
circle of indi\'iduals through its invention. Writing tends to 
equalize the memories of all who learn it. Ultimately, this 
fact begins to be felt in a struggle on the part of the unculti- 
vated classes to share in a knowledge of the light. Moreover, 
the act of committing a tradition to writing depersonalizes it, 
as it were. It is no longer associated closely with the talent, 
the training, the indi\"iduaKty of persons by whose memory 
it is preser\-ed. It becomes an impersonal thing to be shared 
by aU who read. WTiatever of sanctity it possesses becomes 
progressively lost to the learned class, the more the tradition 
separates itseK from li\-ing men, and the more reading ceases 
to be an esoteric art. 

The principle that is here outlined can be said to apply quite 
universally in himian history. Put in a general form, it declares 



Ultimate 
democratic 
effect of 
written 
language 



372 Principles of Education 

that any advance in written language by which the preserva- 
tion through it of culture is rendered easier not only strength- 
ens the social memory and so the grip of tradition, but also 
tends to democratize this. Thus we find that the reduction of 
law to written codes often occurs in connection with a demo- 
cratic movement. The laws of Solon are said to have origi- 
nated from such an emergency. The mass of the people feel 
surer of the integrity of their rights if these are stated in a 
form not subject to the manipulation of the judicial class. 
Such security is dependent, however, on the literacy of at 
least a portion of the governed class, and implies that the ad- 
vance in writing has brought about a tendency toward the 
democratization of the power to read. Again, the invention of 
printing, although at first utilized largely by those already 
interested in books, proved ultimately a most important cause 
of universal literacy. It cheapened reading matter, so as to 
put it within the reach of all who could learn to read, and the 
general movement toward democracy has made it possible for 
all to be literate. 

Thus it is that improvements welcomed by the learned class 
as increasing their efficiency ultimately tend to destroy their 
monopoly. An equally paradoxical effect may be noticed in 
regard to the conservative influence of written language. So 
long as customs, laws, and beliefs are preserved by oral lan- 
guage, they can be changed readily and unconsciously. To 
realize this, one has only to recall the ease with which rumor 
modifies the message that it spreads about. Such changes are 
often intentional, but it is a matter of common observation 
that differences in point of view, variations of emphasis, and 
defects in power of understanding or of communication, all 
tend to transform the original fact or idea, without any con- 
scious falsification. Similarly, oral tradition becomes modi- 
fied, lending itself to such changes as new emergencies, new 



Language 373 

points of view, new interests create. It is a flexible affair, 
easily adapted to the particular needs of the individual, class, 
or age that preserves or utilizes it. Written language destroys Primary con- 
much of this fluidity. It steadies the memory, not permitting ^g^cf oF 
the reconstructions of a changed mood or intellectual stand- written 
point. This gain in firmness carries with it at first a loss in a°g^a-g<5 
adaptabihty. The Chinese educational system is a stock 
example of a tradition preserved intact untU it has grown 
out of touch with the actual emergencies of life. It is im- 
possible to constrain human activity permanently within the 
forms of such customs as even the wisest of men devise. 
Nations, even those in isolation, move ahead. ^ The hoUow- 
ness of preserving the form after its real value has disappeared its ultimate 
must ultimately be noted. Hypocrisy must at last become ^y'^e^efiect 
conscious of itself, and then revolution is inevitable. The 
process is swifter with nations that are much in contact with 
others, and subject to the vicissitudes of international struggle. 
Thus a few centuries after the substance of Hebrew tradition 
had been committed to writing by Ezra we find Paul complain- 
ing that ''the letter killeth, but the spirit giveth hfe." Such a 
discovery tends to destroy the early faith in the infallibility 
of those sources from which tradition is derived. When the 
sanction of faith is lost, that of force is doomed. Revolution 
begets new forms. But these in turn are seen to be of only 
temporary value, and give way. Ultimately mankind comes 
to feel the spirit of progress, to know that memory should be 
the servant and not the master, and that the "golden age" is 
ahead. Thus written language, at first intensely conservative, 
comes ultimately to provoke that most progressive of condi- 
tions in which men constantly strive for the betterment of 
their institutions. Destroying the tendency toward uncon- 
scious advance which oral tradition permits, it compels, in the 

^ Compare § 39. 



374 



Principles of Education 



Similar ef- 
fects on 
race and 
individual 



long run, the rise of a conscious spirit of progress that is un- 
trammeled by a stultifying worship of the past. 

The same agencies that improve the memory of a race, mak- 
ing for stability and ultimately for conscious and intelligent 
reform, operate in the education of the individual to foster firm- 
ness of character and a conscious struggle toward betterment. 
Character, according to Herbart,^ depends upon ''memory of 
the will," and this finds a most important auxiliary in the 
reniinders of teacher and parent. Whatever makes for per- 
manence in the memory of society reacts upon the power of 
the individual to restore his own past. The memory of each is 
to a great extent an inference from his treatment by others. 
The keeping of a diary may do much to clarify and render 
effective one's ideals, and also cause one to substitute for the 
ideal of mere consistency that of improvement. 

We may sum up the thought of this section as follows : 
Language is an aid to the memory, not only because the word 
helps us to discriminate and retain the concept, but also be- 
cause through communication the memory of the individual 
is supported by the collective memory of all, especially by that 
of the best. Those who by talent or training are best situated 
to keep in memory the traditions become a privileged, learned 
class, authoritative as the guardians of social heredity. Among 
them devices for aiding the memory appear, the most impor- 
tant of which is written language. This instrument leads to 
the school, and so long as it can be monopolized by the learned 
class, it enhances their authority. Ultimately written lan- 
guage tends toward democracy, since it can be learned by all, 
and since its acquisition tends to equalize men in respect both 
to their efficiency in preserving the past and to their ability 
to get at the sources of authority. Finally, written language 
fosters so literal a conservatism that it creates the plague of 

^ The Science of Education, third book, Ch. I, II. 



Language 375 

the archaic law or institution. When the evil of this condition 
is once recognized, men are compelled to lose their primitive 
respect for the past and to assume consciously the revolution- 
ary and the progressive spirit. This change in the spirit of 
the institutions of men is paralleled in the growth of the char- 
acter of the individual under the influence of the social mind. 
One's "memory of the will" is strengthened so that he comes 
to have ideals, to struggle for consistency, and finally to turn 
his efforts toward betterment, even at the expense of breaking 
with his past ideals. 

Section 42. Education in language 

Since the most important agency of social heredity is Ian- Language 
guage, society has rightly emphasized it as the fundamental mentai'^^" 
concern in education. It is the leading "acquired character." concern in 
Through it alone is a social environment of the higher type 
made possible. Throughout the ages the Knguistic aim has 
dominated the school. But this devotion of the school to criticism of 
language has been severely criticised. Social, political, re- tfon^Tth 
ligious, educational reformers are fond of satirizing the love school to 
of words that overmasters the learned professions, particu- ^"suage 
larly that of teaching. The spirit is distinguished from the 
letter, the fact from the word, and the cry is raised that man- 
kind has become enslaved by verbiage, and can be saved 
only by abandoning symbols and associating more freely with 
realities. 

This criticism is at once superficial and true. It is super- Two serious 
ficial because it assumes that the human mind possesses a con- errors of 

i verbalism 

siderable power of dealing with realities apart from words. 
It is true because the interest in words on the part of the 
schoolmaster leads to certain oversights in instruction. It 
may keep him busy in teaching words when the concepts that 



376 



Principles of Education 



(i) Verbal- 
ism as in- 
terfering 
with the 
reconstruc- 
tion of 
concepts ; 



they express have come to be practically valueless. It may 
cause him to neglect a proper study of the concept in its rela- 
tion to realities, with the result that it does not prove as avail- 
able as it should in the analysis and treatment of new situa- 
tions. 

These two criticisms sum up the serious follies of verbalism. 
The first fault amounts practically to Bacon's "idol of the 
market-place." Words constrain us to think in certain ways, 
and often these are not the best ways of regarding the facts. 
Forms of expression are an indispensable social adaptation, 
but, like most of these, they vary in value with the ages. 
They are the main avenue of approach to social heredity, but 
social heredity contains much that should from time to time 
be abandoned. Hence, in teaching words one must be careful 
to note whether the concepts they express are really worth 
while, whether the analysis of experience to which they lead 
is one that meets the emergencies of life in general, and es- 
pecially to-day. The possession of a name is apt to give a 
concept a fictitious value. Since the name is a means of 
preserving the concept for the individual and for the race, we 
are apt to assume that because a concept has such a designa- 
tion it is worth preserving. This by no means follows. So 
far as the concept is concerned, the value of the name Hes in 
that it holds this concept in individual or social memory long 
enough for it to be tested as to its value. But those who are 
interested in names — the learned class, whose business it is 
to preserve social heredity through words, and the school- 
masters, whose task it is to teach words that through them 
social heredity may be accessible — are apt not to notice when 
a concept has failed to stand the test of practice. They pre- 
serve terminologies when the systems of thought which these 
represent have in effect proved to be useless or unreliable analy- 
ses of experience. It is not realized that forms of analysis 



Language 2>77 

that are suited to one stage of social development may be 
without value or positively harmful in another. Thus words 
tend to interfere with that free struggle for existence among 
concepts by which alone the latter can become truly scien- 
tific. The love of language, like conservatism, prevents 
hasty abandonment of ideas, but at the cost of keeping alive 
much that functions in waste. 

The second fault of verbalism lies in the tendency on the (2) verbal- 
part of the school to be content with such a knowledge of the 1^™ ^^ ^^'^" 
concept as insures a working mastery of the word that des- vide for > 
ignates it. The learning of a new word means an addition to recai'uf" 
one's equipment of concepts. The acquisition of a foreign concepts 
tongue or of a scientific or philosophic terminology means a 
new system of concepts, — an expansion not only of words 
but of ideas. The consciousness of this value leads the school 
to rely too exclusively upon it. This attitude is supported 
by a recognition of the fact that the generality of the concept 
is the quality that makes it applicable to many situations, 
and, therefore, the essence of that which is practically useful 
in experience. It is assumed that, since a comprehension of 
the meaning of the word implies a seizing of the concept in 
the abstract or generalized form, the knowledge of this mean- 
ing is all that one needs in order to apply the concept to use. 

We have already pointed out that the mere knowledge of 
the abstract concept does not necessarily involve the power 
to recall it when it might prove useful.^ One may know much 
about the principles of mechanics, and yet fail to recognize in 
a new case an occasion for the application of some of this knowl- 
edge. It is necessary that one shall have noted the applica- 
tion of the concept to many situations superficiall}^ much 
different from each other in order to get it well under power of 
recall. That accurate knowledge of the concept which comes 

* Compare § 30. 



378 



Principles of Education 



Need of 
training in 
the use of 
words 



Need of 
training in 
keeping 
written rec- 
ords 



from mastering the word and its general meaning does not 
suffice to put it in a position to be readily utilized. 

It is interesting to note in the development of a vocabulary 
a difficulty similar to the one just shown to arise in connection 
with the effective mastery of a concept. All men know the 
meaning of many more words than they actually use to ex- 
press themselves. It is the business of the school, not only to 
teach the meanings of new words, but also to practice in their 
use, so that the gap between the vocabulary understood and 
that utilized in speech may not be too great. Words, Kke 
concepts, may lie as useless lumber in the mind, and the only 
device that education knows to meet this difficulty is to force 
both on the attention in such a variety of cases that the mind 
associates with them such an abundance of incidental data as 
to afford many links for their recall in addition to the funda- 
mental common relationships that they represent. Thus one 
grows expectant of them even in somewhat strange surround- 
ings. 

As a final word upon the subject of instruction in language, 
mention may be made of certain values of the written record 
that need to be impressed on the learner. In the evolution of 
written language writing preceded reading, but in the teach- 
ing of the art reading almost universally comes first. Hence 
it is that our power to read as a rule outruns our power to 
write. We utilize what others have recorded, but make no 
contribution from our own minds to the permanent records of 
language. This attitude may be partly the result of lack of 
independent creativeness and energy on the part of the great 
majority. They are born not to lead but to follow, to rely on 
others rather than to make use of devices for self-support. 
Such passivity is not unconquerable, however, and it is the 
part of education to make men self-reliant and resourceful. 
Among the possible resources of the individual, not the least 



Language 379 

is the habit of supporting the memory by the use of the written 
record. 

It is unnecessary to enlarge upon the gain in social efficiency 
that comes from a knowledge of effective methods of written 
expression and from the habit of their use. This value is so 
evident as to have engaged fully the attention of master and 
pupil ahke. But comparatively few realize clearly the gain in 
amount and reliabiHty of resources for judgment that comes 
from the recording of the experience upon which this process 
of judgment depends. To the scientifically trained, it goes 
without saying that observations which are not noted in writ- 
ing will very probably be distorted or lost. Wherever in the 
conduct of life the scientific spirit prevails, there the general- 
izations upon which practice is based are founded on observa- 
tions the nature of which is kept with care by means of a 
written record. Other generalizations may well be char- 
acterized in the scornful language of Plato as mere opinion. 

The scientific record that is here in view is not functionally Scientific 
the same as that which may not inappropriately be called the records^°"'^ 
historic record. There is a clear distinction between a record 
that preserves facts accurately merely for the sake of drawing 
from them correct generalizations and one that preserves facts 
for their own sake, or facts that without any further generahza- 
tion may be of importance in determining future conduct. 
The latter, or historic, record has an obvious value, and one 
recognized from the very beginning of written language. The 
desire to protect such legal facts as by their specific nature 
determine future action, e.g. contractual relations, from the 
treachery of memory or of cunning was an important motive 
for the invention of writing. So, too, the merchant has from 
time immemorial kept books to enable him to remember his 
debits and credits. If one has many engagements, it seems 
almost necessary to keep a record of them. Such historic 



38o 



Principles of Education 



Especial 
need of 
training in 
keeping 
scientific 
records 



records are valuable primarily because they involve the future 
conduct in reference to each other of two or more parties, any 
of whom may treacherously repudiate his obligation if there 
be no written record or witness to refute him. They have, 
however, the secondary value of sustaining the memory against 
its own imperfections as well as against the trickery of others. 

The value of the scientific record has not been so generally 
felt. Where a fact is of no significance except for the sake 
of helping to sustain or to disprove a generaHzation, one is apt 
to trust it to memory. The merchant has not fully reaUzed 
the value of such records as help him to see which lines of 
business are most profitable. The legislator has not made 
much of keeping a written account of such data as concern 
the effect of laws. Most physicians regard their memories as 
able to preserve an adequate account of the effects of their 
medicines. It is true that a sense of the importance of the 
scientific record is gradually creeping into the professions. 
We utilize in generalization such historic records as may prove 
of scientific value. But the scientific record is often concerned 
with facts that from the historic point of view have no in- 
terest. Until they are put into generalizations they are triv- 
ial and insignificant. The appreciation of the value of such 
facts is, therefore, in need of careful cultivation. It is among 
those attitudes that the school will find well worthy of attention. 

It is probably correct to say that the school to-day, even in 
its upper departments of college and university, stresses the 
keeping of what we have called historic records rather than 
those that are scientific. Note taking that one may pass ex- 
aminations, or even that one may write essays, is usually an 
historic record. The facts they preserve are of specific value, 
and not, as a rule, to be used merely as a basis for generaliza- 
tion. Here, then, is an opportunity for the school to lead the 
way toward popularizing the spirit and the methods of sci- 



Language 38 1 

entific research. In education, in politics, in business the 
need of scientifically gathered data is beginning to be in- 
tensely felt. Such a demand cannot fail to have its reaction 
upon the instruction of the school. It can hardly be expected 
that children in the elementary grades can be trained to the 
highest appreciation of scientific method. Yet even so far 
down in the school as this much in the way of a critical spirit, 
a power to distinguish between carefully established principles 
and mere opinions, and a sense of the value of the written 
record in supporting generalizations can beyond question 
be given. ^ 

We have in this section dealt with the most general edu- Summary 
cational issues involved in linguistic instruction. The ac- 
quisition of language is with man the first and most impor- 
tant step in attaining his social heredity. But in stressing 
education in language the schoolmaster is apt to fall into 
verbalism. Two serious evils may follow. The learning of 
classic words may tend to perpetuate concepts that are or 
should be obsolete. Terminologies preserve ideas and sys- 
tems of ideas after they have outlived their usefulness. Again, 
the study of the concept may be confined to those general 
meanings with which the word is always associated. If so, 
one fails to get it well enough associated with concrete situa- 
tions to be readily recalled when it should be used. Herein 
we find a phase of verbalism far more common and far less 
easily detected than the wooden and patent blunder of teach- 
ing words without meanings at all. Finally, the power to 
use written language effectively is a result which, because 
both of its difficulty and of its importance, should receive 
especial attention in education. One should be taught to 
express himself effectively in writing, and also to make written 
records both historic and scientific. The m.aking of scientific 

1 Compare McMurry, How to Study, Ch. VI. 



382 Principles of Education 

records is to-day a comparatively rare thing in the world at 
large, and is very little emphasized in the school, especially 
in the elementary grades. There is, however, a rapidly grow- 
ing demand that the practice of various professions should be 
made more scientific. Training in the scientific spirit by the 
school can do much to accelerate this movement. Even 
children in the elementary grades can appreciate the differ- 
ence between a judgment based on recorded facts and one 
dependent on a vague massing of material in memory. 



CHAPTER XIII 

PLAY 

Section 43. General theory of play 

Among the forms that educational activities assume, that Play the fun- 
of play is so important as to demand a special chapter in the educative 
theory of education. Play is the characteristic activity of in- activity 
fancy, and infancy is the time of special capacity to learn. 
Hence, it would seem like a logical conclusion that the funda- 
mental educative activity is play. Indeed, there can be little 
doubt that this proposition is very near the truth. 

At the outset of the discussion of our topic, it is necessary to Child play 
distinguish between the play of children and that of adults, difie^rent^ 
While the latter grows out of the former and is, perhaps, from that 

. ,. ,. . of adults. 

fundamentally the same, still there are some ditferences m Definition 
motive, and there may be a very large contrast in function, of play 
Play is commonly understood to mean any activity pursued 
for its own sake without reference to the utility of its re- 
sults. Herein both adult and child play agree. But in the 
plays of the child the educational utiHty is far more in evidence 
than in those of the mature person. 

Taking up the play of children, one comes at once upon a Instinctive 
very interesting question. Why should the child like to do ^^^^ pi^y 
that which is of such value in his development ? The proper 
answer would seem to be that it is because the activities of 
play are instinctive. This characteristic renders them inevi- 
table and pleasurable without thought of consequences. The 
child must play, first, because he has instincts and must strive 

383 



384 



Principles of Education 



Two other 
theories of] 
play 



Criticism of 
the recrea- 
tion 
thory. 



to satisfy them, and, second, because his equipment of instinc- 
tive acts' and habits by means of which the instincts may be 
met is imperfect. He lacks strength, maturity of instinctive 
associations, adequate equipment of habits and experience. 
He feels the force of the instincts and expresses them through 
immature forms. This is child play. That he does not feel 
dissatisfied with such activity, and long for such results as 
mature power can achieve, is due to two subsidiary condi- 
tions. The first is that through fostering agencies he is sup- 
plied with those necessities which it is the business of the in- 
stinct to urge him to seek. He is not driven by harsh need 
of self-support to realize the difference between play and ma- 
ture activity. The second is that through imagination he is 
able to invent a world of make-believe, and thus to bridge the 
gap between what he wants and what he can get. 

The theory of play thus outlined is essentially that of Pro- 
fessor Groos,^ and may be said to be the one most generally 
accepted. Other theories, the "recreation " theory of Lazarus,^ 
and the "surplus energy theory" of Schiller^ and Spencer,* 
may be said to be suggestive and contributory, but not fun- 
damental. That adults turn, when they play, to some activity 
other than that which is wearied is an usual, though by no 
means an universal, rule. Play is not always recreative. 
Again, if we were to suppose this to be its function, we might 
well ask the nature of the forces that lead to so beneficent an 
activity. To say that men turn to play because they are 
tired of work is at best a merely negative explanation. Why 
do they not content themselves with resting? If the answer 
is made that the most effective rest is in recreative activities, 



* The Flay of Animals and The Play of Man. 

* Die Reize des Spiels. 

' Letters on the /Esthetic Education of Mankind. 

* Principles of Psychology, Tart IX, Ch. IX. 



Play 385 

one wishes to know the impulses that drive toward these. 
The only answer is that they must be positive instincts, 
which cause certain forms of activity to delight for their own 
sake. 

Thus, even with the adult, the recreation theory cannot ex- of the sur- 
plain the positive activities of play. To the child, in whom fhcory"^"^^'^ 
play is the typical activity, the view seems to have no appli- 
cation. The same difi&culties beset the surplus energy theory. 
Just as play is not always recreative with adults, and seldom 
so with children, so the young and sometimes even the old 
play when they have little or no surplus energy. It is well 
known that children will play when they are tired or sick. It 
is true that a playing child will, other things being equal, be 
likely to employ powers that are not fatigued, yet if the in- 
citement be sufficiently strong, he may continue to strain his 
jaded muscles. Thus the surplus energy theory merely serves 
occasionally to explain why children choose one sport rather 
than another. 

The form of play cannot be determined apart from the in- instinct ex- 
stincts. In his sports the child manifests the fundamental Jtiic^bL 
needs of his life by such activities as he is able to command, of piay 
That these activities are only playful is primarily due to the 
fact that he is only a child. Even with men play usually 
takes the form of some occupation in which the player is 
merely an amateur. In general, activity will be playful when 
it is immature, or when the situation that evokes it is not such 
as to demand, or, perhaps, even to admit, its serious exercise. 
The so-called instinct to play can probably be resolved into 
the various instincts that give form to the play impulse. 
The instincts are so powerful that they drive the individual 
into activity. They make him essentially an active being; 
to seem to love activity for its own sake, so that when he is not 
coerced into work he must, unless exhausted, turn to play. 

2C 



y 



386 Principles of Education 

Distinction Since wc havc so far discussed in the main the play of chil- 

piay and drcn, we have had in mind an activity which has no special util- 
work jj^y except that which is educational. But if play is defined as 

that activity which is attractive for its own sake, it is not of 
necessity without consequences that are valuable independently 
of their educational significance. Play may or may not be 
serious. Similarly, work, which commonly means activity 
for the sake of some ulterior end, may be so pleasant that one 
would continue it even though its utility were absent. Thus 
the boundary hnes between play and work seem vague and 
indeterminate. From the practical point of view, however, 
a distinction can be made. Wherever utility is so important 
that it would constrain one to a certain activity, even though 
this were not attractive in itself, there we have work. On the 
other hand, wherever the motive of utility is relatively in- 
significant, there the activity may properly be called playful. 
Thus with adults play means the avocation, work the vocation. 
One's vocation may be delightful to him, yet he feels that 
he cannot abandon it, even if it were irksome. On the other 
hand, we feel no such coercive motive in our avocations. 

Play as pre- With the lower animals and primitive men play leads in- 
paratoryto ggj^gjj^jy Jjj|-q \^q\}^ vocation and avocations. In fact, in these 

uie avoca- •' ' 

tion cases no sharp line of demarcation exists between the two 

phases of adult life. In civilized society there is some doubt 
as to whether play can be used to any extent to give specific 
preparation for the vocation. This issue will be debated later. 
But there can be no question that the play of the child leads 
into the avocations of the man. There is a continuity be- 
tween the games of childhood and the incidental pursuits of 
later life which it is of great importance for education to note 
and to respect. 

We may sum up the contrast between the play of children 
and the avocations of men somewhat as follows. Child play 



Play 387 

functions mainly as an education. The avocation is partly Contrast be- 
educative, but it also serves as a recreation, as contributory anravoca^ 
to social efficiency by fostering contact with others in a va- tion 
riety of ways, and as productive of many results of direct 
utility, such as artistic surroundings. Both child play and 
the avocation are pursued from interest in the activities for 
their own sake. In the case of the child, this interest is not 
clouded by any feeling of the lack of importance in what he is 
doing. The fact that the vocation does not exist for him, 
.coupled with his power of make-believe, suffices to render him 
contented with play. In the man the avocation is often felt 
to need excuse. It may be justified because it appeals to the 
judgment as to what is really desirable or in good taste, or 
because of the need of recreation, or because the person has a 
right to do as he pleases with his idle time. The interest in 
the avocation may spring from its conformity to the tastes 
of the individual, from an intense desire to be active, — a sur- 
plus energy that, owing to the situation of its possessor, finds 
no need of discharging itself in the pursuits of a vocation, — or 
from a survival of child interest in certain specific activities. 
This last feeling may be intensified by reverberations in mem- 
ory of the joy of childhood in similar pursuits. It is doubtless 
largely this that makes some so fond of witnessing as specta- 
tors sports in which they formerly took part as players. 

There is yet another phase of adult play that needs con- Theavoca- 
sideration. The play of the child often becomes the serious Ss^oVt'he 
pursuit, the work of the man. This happens because of its vocation 
grip upon social interest. Through the game or the avoca- 
tion one may gain praise, prestige, and, indirectly, many other 
benefits of the highest utihty. Hence men pursue such oc- 
cupations, not for their own sake, but for their utility. Again, 
their hold upon human interest renders it profitable for some 
to make a vocation of catering to the taste for them. The 



388 Principles of Education 

professional athlete, the actor, the artist, perhaps one may 
even say the scholar and investigator, come into existence 
because men are willing to pay for the entertainment they 
afford. The avocation of the many becomes the vocation of 
the few. 

Hence it comes about that the game that at first functions 
mainly as an education proves useful, not merely for recrea- 
tion, but also as the serious business of life. The pursuits of 
leisure become included among the vocations. That this 
should continue to be so, however, requires that these activi- 
ties should be for the mass of men avocations. Thus the play 
of the child, in leading into the avocations of the man, is pre- 
paring a social demand in which a large number of the voca- 
tions take root. Ultimately, the callings that cater to what 
have been historically the leisure interests of life will, doubt- 
less, far overshadow the others in the numbers that are con- 
cerned in them. 

The play of children, then, consists of the immature mani- 
festations of their instincts. Such activities lead on into that 
large mass of interests that sustains among men all pursuits 
except those that minister to the simplest necessities of life. 
That which men do for the sake of the doing is that broader 
phase of their lives in which they Join with humanity to 
create the standards of life, — the demands which men in their 
vocations strive to supply. Thus play educates, not so much 
in the vocation, as in those motives that make work, whether 
in the child or the man, seem worth while. 

Section 44. The games of childhood 

Before discussing more minutely the educational value of 
play, it may be well to analyze briefly the character of the 
games of childhood, and also to take a rapid survey of the 



Play 



389 



part that the game has played in the history of education. 
By a game may be understood any specific form that play as- 
sumes. The games of childhood, and in fact of all ages, may 
be classified as individual or social, according as they involve 
one or more than one person. It is evident that individual 
games are relatively far less numerous and important than are 
those involving social cooperation. Moreover, such games as 
may be said to be primarily individual may also assume a 
social form and, indeed, come to have largely a social character. 

The individual games may be roughly classified into (i) im- 
pulsive activities; (2) games appealing to the aesthetic sense; 
(3) feats; and (4) destructive and constructive sport. The 
simplest form that the play impulse takes is that of mere 
activity, without any conscious interest in either its form or 
its results. Much of this sort of play is mere instinctive or 
reflex activity, but the attitude of the child makes it seem 
purposeless. Running, leaping, climbing, getting the body 
into a variety of positions, grasping, and throwing things about 
are illustrations. Such activities may also be mental and 
take the form of an endeavor to get surprising or lively sensa- 
tions or that of imaginative invention. 

As the child accumulates experience and recalls his earlier 
activities, mere impulsive play becomes transformed into 
games in which either the form of what he does or its results 
or both constitute important centers of interest. Where form 
is the attractive element, we may say that the appeal is to the 
aesthetic sense. Children love repetition, the recurrence of 
the familiar, rhythm, and rhyme, and simple musical form. 
When they grow old enough to grasp the customary, the con- 
ventional, they become devoted to it, and protest strenuously 
against any innovations. The child displays this taste in his 
solitary games and in his imagination, in the tales that he tells, 
and in his criticism of the stories that others tell him. 



Games as in- 
dividual 
and social. 
Impor- 
tance of the 
latter 



Classes of in- 
dividual 
games : (i) 
impulsive 
activities. 
Interest in 
mere activ- 
ity; 



(2) aesthetic 
games. In- 
terest in 
the form of 
activity ; 



390 Principles of Education 

(3) feats. The interest in performing feats is, perhaps, the simplest 
the results phasc of sport in which attention is directed toward the result. 
of activity; ^he stimulus is here, of course, often the desire to cope with 

or to surpass a competitor, and hence we have a social game. 
However, children endeavor to "do stunts" without any 
pressure of rivalry. The surroundings invite the active child 
to test himself ; memory offers a glimpse of his past activity 
that he strives to surpass ; imagination, stimulated especially 
by tales of the deeds of others or by a direct perception of 
unusual forms of skill, provokes the child to emulate the ad- 
mired acts so far as his physical or mental powers permit. 
Here the feat merges into the dramatic game. 

(4) destruc- The interest in results culminates, so far as individual 
structive ' games are concerned, in destructive or constructive sport, 
sport The object of the game comes to be clearly distinguished from 

the activities by which it is attained. Destructive sport, be- 
ginning in such activities as breaking things and pulling them 
apart, or destroying them and throwing them about, is at 
first hardly distinguishable from mere impulsive activity. 
Later, however, it becomes reenforced by curiosity and the 
love of displaying power, and the child destroys in order to 
learn or to exhibit his strength. Such interest is, however, 
temporary, as a rule, and it is in constructive sport that the 
genuine delight in the outcome of individual activity becomes 
most clearly evident. Here the child plays, not merely be- 
cause he likes to be active or because he is fond of reproduc- 
ing certain pleasant types of activity or of doing new and 
unusual deeds, but also because he takes dehght in the prod- 
uct of his play. More and more the game is becoming a means 
to an end, — an activity pleasurable largely because from it 
emanate certain desirable, perhaps even tangible, results. 

The same transition from interest in mere activity to interest 
in the form and, finally, in the outcome of this activity is seen 



Play 



391 



in the development of social games. They may be classified 
into (i) simple activities of social intercourse; (2) esthetic 
games involving social organization; (3) dramatic games; 
(4) games of individual rivalry; (5) games of group competition. 

By simple activities of social intercourse is meant such mere 
impulsive sports as please, not only for the sake of the activity 
itself, but also because others share in it. To run, jump, 
chmb, throw things about, etc., are more pleasant when 
others are participating than when alone. The instinctive 
love of social interplay, of expression and response, the nerv- 
ous stimulus that comes from living presences, enter in to 
enhance the attractiveness of any activity that involves social 
intercourse. Often such sport takes the instinctive form of 
physical combat of some sort, even when there is no sense 
of rivalry, as when the little child engages in mimic struggle 
with an elder person. The result is here of no importance. 
The interest lies in the instinctive activity, which is pleasant 
in itself. 

Similarly, when we pass to the aesthetic games involving 
social organization, we find that social intercourse heightens 
the interest and increases the possibilities. Children may 
arrange themselves in a form that has aesthetic value. Ring 
games are almost without number. Social cooperation adds 
greatly to the number of possible devices in the way of rhythm, 
or song, or rule of procedure. Games become complicated, 
and the children are able to play the more elaborate forms be- 
cause cooperation supports the memory for details that would 
be too great a strain on the individual, and because social 
interplay sustains interest when that in mere aesthetic form 
might flag. At first, these games appeal to social instincts 
less fierce than that of rivalry. This factor, however, creeps 
in at an early date, although it does not become a predominat- 
ing interest until at least as late as the seventh year. 



Classes of 
social 
games 



(i) Simple in- 
stinctive 
social ac- 
tivities. 
Social in- 
tercourse 
as intensi- 
fying in- 
terest ; 



(2) social 
aesthetic 
games ; 



392 



Principles of Education 



(3) games of 
"make- 
believe." 
Interest in 
admired 
form ; 



(4) games 
of rivalry. 
Interest in 
results ; 



Practically all except the simplest games of children are 
learned by imitation. Those in which adult activities are 
mimicked may, perhaps, be called dramatic games and re- 
garded as a distinct group. Playing with dolls, playing horse, 
playing Indian, etc., illustrate a type of activity that appears 
in endless variety. There is no thought of valuable conse- 
quences from the activity involved. The life of men and 
women evokes the aesthetic admiration of the child because 
it appeals to the developing instincts of boy or girl. The 
game is really one of aesthetic interest, but it gains a pecuKarly 
social character because the child finds in the life of older 
people a more satisfactory expression of his nature than in 
activities which he can imitate without much strain on his 
powers of make-believe. The desire to be and to do as the 
highest standards of society suggest is here intensely felt. 
Such games are not dramatic in the sense that the players 
strive to appeal to an audience. Perhaps a more appropriate 
name for them might be games of "make-believe," for the in- 
terest, whenever it can be said to be more than pleasure in 
variant types of activity, lies wholly in the sense of identifica- 
tion with some admired phase of life. 

The interest in the form of the sport reaches its climax in 
these games of "make-believe," which constitute perhaps the 
most common type of play of children between the ages of 
four and ten. Eventually, the interest ceases to depend 
mainly on the fact that the game reproduces a social model 
which is admired, and comes to lie in the opportunity that the 
game affords for that fascinating form of social intercourse, 
rivalry. At first, the rivalries of children are passive affairs. 
In the earlier games competition appears in eagerness to be 
selected in preference to others to play a special part in the 
game. The children may appeal for such a favorite role by 
entreaties, cajolery, or complaint, but there is no active 



Play 393 

endeavor to win the prize of victory by excelling in some ac- 
tivity. It is this latter trait that characterizes the later games 
of rivalry, the approved forms of which are adapted by a 
long process of selection to bring into the most vigorous con- 
test the leading functions of the individual. 

Finally, we have the games of group contest. Here rivalry (s) games 
becomes, in part at least, subordinated to devotion to the com- contest^ 
mon interest of the side or team or whatever the social unit 
may be denominated. It is more fascinating to play with a 
side and lose than to play as an individual and win. In these 
group contests nearly all the instincts of the individual are 
called into operation. The love of activity, the aesthetic in- 
terest in harmonious and famihar organization and in playing 
according to rule, the instincts of sociability, rivalry, coop- 
erativeness, and leadership, all come into play. Such games 
constitute the great passions of youth, and even the adult feels 
their compelling fascinations. 

Up to the time when the motive of rivalry becomes promi- Effect of 
nent, the plays of the child have resulted principally in ex- rfv'^fry°on 
pansion of resources rather than in growth of judgment. His judgment 
potentialities in action have been exploited, experience has 
been accumulated, imagination fed and stimulated. The 
process of selecting that which is most appropriate, most 
pleasing, fittest among these accumulating resources has been 
going on, but there has been no insistent emphasis upon it, so 
far as the playful activities are concerned. In this field of 
sport, as long as the interests of older people have not been 
crossed, compulsion has not interfered with the taste or caprice 
of the child. This freedom suffers a serious check when 
rivalry becomes dominant in the game. Competition banishes 
all activity that is not effective in winning. It checks the 
exuberance of the imagination, confining it to the true or, at 
any rate, the approved. The child's constructions must now 



394 Pri7iciples of EducatioJt 

be limited to that which possesses excellence, and the adult 
model is no longer merely an invitation to activity, but a 
command that this activity shall be good. The struggle to 
conform, felt hitherto in the serious relations of life, is trans- 
ferred to the games. Here it becomes fierce and overwhelm- 
ing, for only through conformity can the child attain the 
prizes for which his fellows in society are contending. The 
will of the elders he may cajole or deceive. He may even rebel 
against it, with hope of pardon or of compensating advantages. 
But the outcome of a struggle with his peers means success or 
failure, without hope of reversal or compensation. His play- 
mates will not ''baby" him. Thus the age when games of 
rivalry begin to predominate is an age in which the child feels 
the pressure of the standards of society as never before, and 
under this coercion the exuberant products of his free activ- 
ity are subjected to sharp criticism and selection. On the 
one hand, the developing judgment of the child makes him 
aware that in society the most positive way to succeed is to 
excel. On the other, the rise of the instinct of rivalry sharpens 
his judgment to distinguish the social demands conformity 
to which means success. 
The age of It is impossible to map out childhood into sharply defined 
^^^^'^^ epochs. Nevertheless, the period between eight and ado- 
lescence may not inappropriately be called the age of rivalry. 
During this time the child is rapidly assimilating the social 
standards by which he can determine the true, the right, the 
effective. As he goes on toward adolescence, he discovers 
that different people, different social groups, have different 
standards. Just as the growth of a sense of standards gave 
rise to a sharp struggle for existence and selection of the ear- 
lier crude spontaneous products of body and mind, so the mul- 
tiplicity of ideals gives rise to a struggle for existence. But 
while in the earlier struggle it was the products of inner spon- 



Play 395 

taneity that were subjected to selection by externally im- 
posed standards, here these external criteria are in turn sub- 
jected to selection by the standard of inward approval. Hence The age of in- 
this new judgment seems, at any rate to the youth, like an ^^^^ ' 
act of independent choice. He feels himself a factor in de- 
termining those very criteria the weight of which has been so 
heavy upon his freedom. At adolescence, when physiological 
changes complete the physical equipment of the adult, the in- 
tellectual changes meet this advance by introducing the in- 
dependent spirit of the mature and responsible contributor to 
social interplay. 

This ethical independence is partly a result of the games of Ethical inde- 
contest between groups, and partly it produces them. In and games 
such sports the mutual dependence of members of a side makes of g'"'^"P 

. . . contest 

all of importance. The continuity and success of the game 
depends upon the wilhng cooperation of all, and each plays 
his part in determining the conditions without which his 
cooperation cannot be obtained. Thus the indi^'idual as- 
sumes the position of one who helps to form the standards to 
which all conform. He becomes, in effect, an independent 
element as well as a dependent one. The conditions that 
make each dependent on all make all dependent on each, and 
in such activities a larger independence arises. The games 
which foster this attitude are logically the games that suit the 
child who is passing out of the age of rivalry into what may 
be called an age of independence. 

If the games of contest between sides lead into ethical and Games lead- 
social manhood, the constructive and dramatic games lead vo^cation^ 
up to vocational manhood. However, before this last result 
is attained a long apprenticeship of training that is distinctly 
work is ordinarily necessary. Hence the free spirit is lost. 
The virtues of industry and self-control rather than those of 
courage, independence, tact, loyalty, and command are cul- 



396 Principles of Education 

tivated. In a general way, the fundamental service of work 
in education is to cultivate the power of manipulating materials 
rather than men. 
Summary It is evident, then, that the games of childhood lead up 

from the simple love of activity to which they at first appeal, 
to interest in aesthetic form, and from thence to a keen appre- 
ciation of those standards and ideals that constitute the mo- 
tives in the life of a civilized society. Promoting at first the 
development of physical control and of experience, they later 
turn to the task of fostering the imagination and, finally, the 
judgment. Through their appeal to the sense of rivalry, they 
enable the coercion of the child by the social standards. 
Through their appeal to the instinct of cooperation, they en- 
courage the child to choose his own standards, tastes, ideals. 
Since they are for the most part social, they cultivate espe- 
cially the social virtues and aptitudes. Since society is the 
common master that all vocations serve, they introduce us to 
the motives that lie behind the vocations. However, it must 
be admitted that even in the dramatic and constructive games 
we find in play alone no introduction to the vocation itself. 

Section 45. The game in the history of education 

Uses of play A skctch of the part played by the game in the history of 
mais!^' im- cducation will afford some suggestions as to its educational 
portance valuc. In the life of animals play finds two functions : first, 

of social . . . , . . . 

training that of strcngthcmng and maturmg the mstmctive acts, and 
of building up a body of experience concerning both their 
relative value in the service of the instincts and the details of 
their use ; second, that of social training. These two uses are 
fundamentally the same, for social development is founded 
upon instinct, yet even in animals the social training derived 
from play is so important as to deserve to be separated from 



Play 397 

the effect of this activity on the other instincts. The instinc- 
tive friendships and hostilities of the brutes, their methods of 
cooperation and of combat, are extensively affected by ex- 
perience. It is here that education is peculiarly important, 
for, as we have seen, a social environment consists of read- 
justing individuals, and hence nature needs help from nurture 
in order to keep pace with the demands either of competition 
or of cooperation. In a general way, infancy, capacity for 
education, playfulness, and ability to deal with social condi- 
tions go together. The plays of animals are largely social in 
character. 

With primitive men play, supplemented by severe negative Play as the 
discipline, such as reaches its culmination in the exercises of form"of 
adolescence,^ affords nearly, if not quite, all the education, primitive 

education 

The power to work is not markedly developed. The rude 
forms of skill that are possessed can frequently be learned by 
imitative play. Important as are the construction of shelter, 
the making of clothing, the use of fire, tools, etc., man can ac- 
quire these arts very easily, and civilization is well advanced 
before they demand any elaborate apprenticeship. On the 
other hand, social organization, involving language and polit- 
ical and religious institutions, together with a mass of common 
usages, presents even to primitive man an enormous quantity 
of material to be mastered by the learner. However, all this 
material can readily be embodied in activities that are essen- 
tially playful. Until written language appears, there is little 
need that liberal education should involve much genuine work. 

The association of the game with religious ceremonial is an Association 
interesting feature of its early history. Whenever the members ^ith^reii^^ 
of a tribe assemble for a common purpose, they are apt to gion 
celebrate the occasion by games, which are usually prescribed 
by religious custom and infused with religious feeling. Stated 

^ Compare § 13. 



X 



398 



Principles of Education 



Reasons for 
this 



Play in 

Greek edu- 
cation 



festivals in honor of certain deities, the celebration of births or 
marriages, funeral ceremonial, the visit of an ambassador, the 
initiation or conclusion of some important tribal enterprise, 
as war or the hunt or migration, — all involve games. It is 
evident that they have a value which is closely associated 
with that of religion. They infuse the group with a common 
spirit and aim, and hence like religion they are a most impor- 
tant agency in social control. The game assists religion in its 
work of socialization by presenting it in forms that are attrac- 
tive and that involve vigorous social interplay. On the other 
hand, religion solemnizes the game and strengthens its hold on 
humanity, converting it from a diversion into an institution. 

One other common feature makes the union of the game 
and of religious ceremonial easy and natural. The form of 
both is freely chosen, and no imposed by an evident utility 
in the accomplishment of certain definite results. Religious 
worship is, it is true, among primitive men intended to secure 
the favor or to ward off the hostility of the supernatural powers. 
However, one ceremonial is as good as another, so long as it 
satisfies the popular notion of what the gods want. The 
ultimate standards that determine the survival of this or that 
custom of worship can only be the values it possesses for 
strengthening society, on the one hand, and for pleasing the 
aesthetic taste of the individual, on the other. These same 
criteria determine the form of the game. It is interesting to 
note that art, which is a child of the spirit of play and that of 
religion, is a strange compound of the lightness and the freedom 
of the one and the profound seriousness of the other, while it 
justifies itself, as do both, by its value as an agency for social 
culture and for aesthetic delight. 

When one speaks of the history of the educational use of 
the game, thought inevitably turns to the Greeks. More 
than any other people they utilized this form of activity in 



Play 399 

the training of the young. The school life of the Athenian or 
Spartan child of from six to sixteen years of age was during 
the earlier periods of the history of these states little else 
than organized and supervised play. Through such means 
they gained their physical culture and their training in music. 
The control of the games by adults made them somewhat 
strenuous. The social premium upon success was sufficiently 
great to make the game involve much work, and often to seem, 
as a whole, work rather than play. Nevertheless, the life 
of the school was in a peculiar sense an end in itself. The 
conception of preparation for adult life is almost thrust out 
of sight by the absorption in the activity of the moment. 
Moreover, this activity was largely in forms that children 
employ in play. Indeed, in so far as the old Greek education 
prepared for the future, it did this in ways that were equally 
valuable for present uses in the life of the school. 

The reasons for this are easily to be found. They lie in the Reasons for 
nature of the Greek civilization and character. It will be 1*1^1°™^' 
noted that in the adult activities of the Greek the game played 
an unusually important part. It is probably not far from 
accurate to say that the public games were the most character- 
istic national institution of the Greeks, just as the character- 
istic form of Greek worship was a sort of aesthetic revelry. 
The games of the school life prepared, therefore, with 
directness for an important phase of adult activity. But 
back of the emphasis of the game both in the school and in the 
life of men lay the fundamental social and liberty-loving nature 
of the Greek. These two traits of character are reflected in 
his civilization. The city-state of historic times constituted 
a little community of free men, who lived in close proximity, 
and who devoted themselves to war, politics, and social life, 
while their slaves did the manual work. That for which the 
free chUd needed to prepare was not a specialized vocation, 



nence 



X 



400 



Principles of Education 



Play in aris- 
tocratic 
education 



The higher 
learning 
and the 
disappear- 
ance of 
play from 
the edu- 
cation of 
leaders, 



but rather independent social activity. As a fitting education 
for the latter he served an apprenticeship in the free life of the 
school, where tradition was poetry, and wisdom the knowledge 
of men. For the training of an aristocracy of free men the 
game has the great advantages of giving each a chance to par- 
ticipate in leadership and of compelling the leader to rely 
for his support upon the free consent of all rather than upon 
blind custom or terror. It may be laid down as a fairly uni- 
versal principle that all free aristocracies emphasize especially 
play as an educational agency. Such a principle is exemplified 
in the education of the Persians, of the medieval knights, of 
the later German aristocracy in the Ritterakademien, and of 
the English aristocracy of to-day in the Public School. 

The development of written language is primarily respon- 
sible for the loss on the part of the game of relative importance 
in free aristocratic education. This instrumentality becomes 
so important an adjunct of all phases of political and social 
activity as to make literacy and some degree of learning a 
source of power, a badge of distinction, an indispensable 
acquisition for any who would make themselves influential. 
The aristocrat must needs master such philosophy and science, 
such law and history as gives him a grip on the institutions 
and the society in which he is supposed to be a dominant force. 
When grammar, rhetoric, and logic add their resources to the 
art of oratory it becomes necessary for the statesman to go 
through a prolonged linguistic training. To acquire this 
body of learning and this linguistic skill persistent effort on 
matters that look toward future efficiency rather than toward 
immediate returns to the child becomes necessary. To insure 
this effort the factor of coercion becomes more prominent in 
education. The school becomes a place of tasks and of punish- 
ment, and the symbol of the rod comes to indicate the school- 
master. That sharp discipline that hitherto was employed 



Play 401 

only to inspire the proper regard for social ideals, as in the 
adolescent exercises, is transferred to the laborious task of 
acquiring learning. 

The accumulation of learning means not only more laborious from edu- 
education for those who would become social and political cation for 
leaders, but it also creates a new ideal of life. Men come to 
feel that the Hfe of culture is worth while for its own sake. 
Scholarship, philosophy, and poetry become cultivated, not 
merely as adjuncts of social and political efficiency, but as 
constituting the ideal pursuits of man. The leisure class comes 
under the spell of the learned ideal, according to which the 
highest end of all endeavor is to know, or the ideal of the artist, 
who gives himself wholly to creating and enjoying the beautiful. 
The endeavor to pursue those ideals involves a large labor of 
preparation, which the school has historically not given in the 
form of the game. 

Especially did the learned ideal tend to eliminate the game The game an- 
from the school. For it is not strongly social in character, b^^non-^ 
and, since the game finds its leading value in developing social social and 
aptitude, the man who looks to knowledge for its own sake dendes 
as the end of living is apt to discredit an agency that distracts 
from his absorbing pursuit and cultivates quahties that to him 
have no essential value. This tendency on the part of those 
who represented the learned ideal appeared among the ancients 
in their philosophic schools, and became further emphasized 
by Christianity. For Christianity not only sanctioned the 
tendency to pursue learning, giving it a religious interpreta- 
tion, but it also, finding the goal of this life in the life to come, 
made salvation in that other world depend on a discipline 
that had no reference to earthly efficiencies, unless we except 
moral ones. Even the moral virtues that it exalted were 
largely negative, the only important positive one being that 
of an indiscriminate and unscientific charity. Thus the indi- 

2d 



402 Principles of Ediicafion 

vidual was thrown back upon himself. The mner life, to 
which he and God alone had direct access, became the all- 
absorbing drama that seized his attention. He had little use 
for play, which makes us worldly and cultivates a social etE- 
ciency that has no relation to the soul's salvation. Hence 
tlie hermit, the solitary cell, the vows to silence. In such 
practices they strove to assure to the soul its cJiance to grow 
up into the knowledge of God, and into immortality. 

When we add to the individualism of the learned ideaJ and 
of the medieval Christian conception of salvation the asceticism 
that came from the supreme valuation of the spiritual and the 
fear of the contamination of the earthly, we have an array 
of forces before which the game went down as a factor in edu- 
cation. It was seductively pleasant, worldly, social. The 
spirit of the time feared all these qualities. The mihtary 
aristocracy of the JNIiddle Ages developed from primitive 
forms an education of games, infusing it with Christian ele- 
ments, but learned education has waited until modern times 
for any adequate recognition of the value of play. 
Reasons for The causcs for this revival of the game as a factor in con- 
0(1110''' sciously controlled education ma\- be summed up under three 
game in hcads: (i) the recognition of the importance of interest as a 
aWaiion. fcviture of cducatlonal method; (j) systematic training of 
^.'^ Nooes- very young children; (3) a larger conception of the scope and 
phasison function of tlic school. We shall consider these factors in 
mterost order, (i") The emphasis upon interest was due to a constantly 
increasing sense of tlie barrenness of school work so long as the 
motivation was left to take care of itself, or limited to com- 
pulsion. The coercive resources of the master failed to keep 
pace with the drudgery of the school. The Renaissance made 
literary education quite common for the upper classes. But, 
given as it was in the ancient tongues, it required long labors. 
Manv teachers found that these could occasionallv be Ughtened 



Play 403 

by the introduction of games. Thus the Jesuits employed 
conccrtations for the same reason that old-fashioned country 
schoolmasters used spelling matches, and modern ones may 
use card games to teach arithmetic. The work of the school 
was put in the form of a game of rivalry. 

It is, perhaps, due to Rousseau more than to any other man Rousseau and 
that modern education feels the necessity of interest. His education" 
revolutionary protest against the arbitrary enslaving educa- 
tion of his time may be regarded as the great "Bill of Rights" 
of the child, a proclamation that has come to have universal 
acceptance to-day, not because we entertain Ms extravagant 
notions of the perfect nature of the child, nor even because of 
our eagerness to yield to the child his rights, although this 
feeling is, to say the least, pronounced, but rather because we 
feel that without interest we fail to get satisfactory results 
for the time and eftort spent in teaching. The educational 
platform of Rousseau would justify play as practically the 
sole method of education. Hence Basedow, the follower of 
Rousseau, utilized it freely in his Philanthropinum. 

The critics of educational reform have often identified the Play not the 
program of interesting the child with a transformation of school of'^teres^ 
acti\-ity into play. Such a behef is unwarranted. The em- 
phasis on interest leads to the introduction of play, but it does 
not follow that only through the game can the work of the 
school be made interesting. The Herbartians make interest 
the foundation of method, but they have never regarded play 
as the only, or even the leading, phase of school activity. ' 

(2) The development of systematic school training for very (2) System- 
young children makes the use of the form of play in school ^j^^ ^^ 
work practicallv ine\'itable. On the one hand, their lack of young cHi- 
experience makes it dimcult or impossible to invoke any motives piay 
save those of play or of arbitrary coercion, and. on the other, 
the play motive seems adequate to secure such persistent 



404 Principles of Education 

effort as the child is at that age capable of putting forth. 
Controlled Nevertheless, the kindergarten, as Froebel conceived it, and 
^ ^^ as it is conducted by the best of his disciples, is not a place for 

mere uncontrolled play. Froebel was far from agreeing with 
Rousseau that a child would develop himself properly under 
the stimulus of his own spontaneous impulses. The prescrip- 
tive and the mandatory elements in education are, indeed, 
proscribed by Froebel. They reappear, however, in the form 
of a negative control that he advocates. The teacher must 
everywhere consult the spontaneity of the child, but when 
these budding tendencies lead into dangerous directions, 
there must be, he maintains, an unhesitating repression, and 
the discipline of natural consequences is to be supplemented 
very materially by arbitrary condemnations and punishments 
meted out by those who have the child in charge. Thus the 
Froebelians advocate, not purely spontaneous, but rather 
controlled, play. 
(3) The (3) The third influence leading to the modern revival of 

cadon and" P^^Y ^^ ^ factor in cducation is the growth of a larger concep- 
P^^y tion of the scope and function of the school. From being 

simply an institution to teach literacy and to transmit the 
content of learning, it has come, owing to the development 
of democracy, to concern itself with civic training, with voca- 
tional training, with health, and, indeed, with all that tends to 
make the individual more efficient and more happy. Many 
of these larger aims can be very directly reached through edu- 
cation by play. This is especially evident in the case of health. 
It is interesting to note that physical culture is more and more 
betaking itself to play, as a better method of getting results 
than the earlier routine gymnasium work. Moreover, the 
schools of the people are beginning to recognize, as the schools 
of the aristocracy have always done, the importance of student 
social life as an agency in the larger preparation of the youth 



Play 405 

for his future. We are coming to feel that clubs, societies, and 
student enterprises of all sorts are not to be regarded simply 
as incidents to the school life, of no concern to the school 
authorities, save as by their excesses they create problems of 
repression. On the contrary, they constitute a phase of school 
activity quite as important as that central core of systematic 
studies upon which hitherto so exclusive an emphasis has been 
placed. 

In resume, we note that throughout history the game has Summary 
been intimately associated with the ethical and social educa- 
tion of men. In this service it has allied itself with religion. 
It is a form of education that has been especially prominent 
in the culture of free aristocracies. On the other hand, the 
evolution of craftsmanship has involved the development of 
apprenticeship or of vocational education through work. 
The development of written language and the accumulation 
of learning, with a consequent increase in the labor of preparing 
for social and political efficiency, caused the coercive factor to 
appear in Hberal education. Work appeared at first incidental 
to the larger play life of the school, but ultimately became 
the predominant feature therein. The growth of the learned 
ideal and of Christianity practically thrust the game out of the 
education of the school. In modern times it has again come 
forward as a means of making school work interesting, partic- 
ularly to young children, and as the natural method of culti- 
vating the health and the civic and social efficiency that have 
come to be such important factors in the aim of education. 

Section 46. Play in the education oj the future 

The function of play in education may be regarded as one 
of the unsettled questions. Schoolmasters are still divided 
both in their theory and in their practice. On the one hand, 



4o6 



Principles of Education 



Two views as 
to the 
proper at- 
titude of 
the school 
toward 
play 



Abandon- 
ment of 
play by 
both voca- 
tional and 
liberal edu- 
cation 



we have these who, inclining toward the theory of Rousseau 
and Groos and the practice of Froebel, are wont to advocate 
a general transformation of school work into play. In such 
activity, they think, Nature has provided a "royal road" to 
that which has in the past cost many pains and tears. 

On the other hand, we have those who, without going to the 
extremes of asceticism, regard play as not only incapable of 
preparing for efficient living, but as an activity against which 
the school that does good work must be constantly at war. 
They note that the power which separates the savage from 
the civiUzed man, the ne'er-do-well without capacity for sus- 
tained effort in any field from the man of effective energy, 
is capacity to bring his spontaneous impulses under the control 
of a coercive purpose, to work. They are convinced that 
extensive indulgence in play will impair the power of self-con- 
trol necessary for persistent labor. Many doubt whether 
play possesses any educational values that are not to be gained 
by the far more helpful and far less demoralizing activity of 
work. Hence, schools have on the whole discouraged the play 
spirit, and have striven to interpenetrate their activity with 
the serious, coercive, and remote aim of education. Play 
has been tolerated only because it could not be entirely sup- 
pressed. The margin of time for such free activity has been 
cut down to that minimum beyond which it would seem that 
coercion cannot go. Or, if a more liberal view prevailed, it 
was held that play might be tolerated as a means of rest and 
recreation in the breathing places between the really serious 
labors of education. 

It is probable that the view that disparages play is not the 
only one that involves error. The study of the games of 
children and of the history of play as a factor in education 
suggests that, although this activity has extraordinary value 
as an educational agency, it yet has certain limitations. It 



Play 407 

is noteworthy that wherever there has appeared a form of 
physical or mental skill the mastery of which involves persist- 
ent effort, there the game has been abandoned as a means of 
preparation. None except the simplest vocations have ever 
been maintained by an apprenticeship consisting to any con- 
siderable extent of play. Moreover, the development of 
written language and a mass of learning has placed Hberal 
education in a position in which it has not been able to trust 
its fate to playful social intercourse, even when a measure of 
supervision has been exercised to curb excesses and to direct 
the "spontaneity" aright. 

The behevers in play will urge that the reason why it dis- 
appears in these educational emergencies is not because it is 
incapable of affording instruction in any form of skill, however 
elaborate, but rather because the schoolmasters have not been 
clever enough to put their instruction in its forms. They 
have gone on trusting to direct coercion as the simplest method 
of bridging over any difficulty of attitude on the child's part. 
But, according to the reformer, here as elsewhere the most 
direct route has not proven the shortest, and the school has 
failed of results for lack of finesse in methods. 

In the minds of some educational reformers, then, play Two prob- 
appears as the universal method of motivating the difficult 
tasks of the school. But this is only one phase of the problem 
of play in education. Any question as to its value for this 
purpose should not blind us to the fact that it has been from 
time immemorial the natural method of social and ethical 
training, and that it possesses pecuhar advantages as an agency 
for such culture, particularly in a free community. The en- 
deavor to forecast the part of play in the education of the 
future involves, therefore, two problems: (i) in how far can 
play be used to motivate difficult school work ? (2) to what 
extent should the school take seriously and assume control 



4o8 



Prmciples of Education 



over those play activities which originally were the whole of 
liberal education, although with the development of the more 
laborious phases of culture they have come to be regarded as 
subsidiary ? 



Ambiguity 
in the 
meaning 
of play 



Definitions of 
work and 
play 



(i) The love oj play as a school motive 

Any discussion of play as a means of motivating difficult 
tasks is likely to become entangled in conflicting conceptions 
of its meaning. If, on the one hand, we think of play as 
activity pursued for its own sake, then, since a definition can 
be converted simply, we must believe that every activity 
that pleases without reference to results is play. Hence it 
would seem that as soon as the tasks of the school are made 
interesting to the child they cease to be work. On the other 
hand, some mean by play that which has no utility. Work 
is serious, they think, but play has no value except that of 
the pleasure one gets out of it. On this view, if an activity 
can be regarded as educative, it in so far ceases to be play 
and becomes work. The school, therefore, can have no place 
for play in the proper meaning of this term. 

Both these notions appear in everyday discussions of the 
subject. The contradictions that they involve are, however, 
to be dispelled if one strives to discover the underlying truth 
in each view. We may admit both that work may become so 
interesting as to fascinate without any thought of its utility 
and that play may gain results of the highest utility, yet it is 
possible to make a working distinction between them. The 
definitions given in an earher section ^ may be taken as a fairly 
logical statement of the practical meaning of each. Work 
is activity which, whether we like it or not, we must enter 
upon because of its consequences. If the coercion is not in 



1 Compare p. 315. 



Play 409 

the foreground, at least it is in the background. Play, on the 
contrary, whatever its utility, is felt to be a matter of free 
choice. We can play or not as we wish. 

With such a definition as a basis, it becomes evident that, Differentia- 
if the play of the child becomes suffused with the sense of a cMd^^L- 
higher coercive force that compels its continuance, even tivityinto 
though the caprice of the moment would lead elsewhere, it is woric^" 
transformed into work. The early activity of the child, which 
is pure play, becomes under the influence of the growing appre- 
ciation of the "must" and the "ought" differentiated into 
two parts. The one has utility for the larger purpose of hfe 
that he is beginning to realize. He may or may not Hke it, 
but he cannot avoid it and satisfy his judgment and his con- 
science. The other is not felt to be so important, so inevitable. 
It retains, in some measure at least, the old spontaneity and 
freedom of the earhest hfe of the child. He may reaHze its 
value, yet he does not regard it as necessary. It is what we 
may very properly call play, although we make many distinc- 
tions, graduating such pursuits in relative importance accord- 
ing as they seem to bear on the more serious phases of hfe and 
involve a greater or less amount of incidental work. 

The school would seem to find it necessary to recognize Needofcui- 
this distinction between work and play, instead of striving th^e^^s"^;^ 
to obHterate it. An attempt to motivate school work by of work 
turning it quite generally into play would seem to fail of intro- 
ducing the child into an appreciation of the fundamental 
values that drive civilized man to work. Among the attitudes 
that it is especially important that the school should cultivate 
in the pupil is that of submitting himself to the patient indus- 
try, the persevering effort, tha^t make up what we may call the 
spirit of work. The school life of the child should naturally, 
but inevitably, introduce him into the distinction between the 
vocation and the avocation. It should teach him to love his 



4IO Principles of Education 

work, it is true, but not by turning it into something which is 
not a genuine task. 
Coercive in- At this point the objection may be made that not even so 
fum '^Ta radical an advocate of the spontaneity of the child as Rousseau 
into work has evcr held that he should be continually shielded against 
the coercive necessities which stimulate to work. To argue 
that the school should teach children to work is to waste words, 
for no one seriously thinks otherwise. Nevertheless, it will 
be admitted that the attempt to motivate school work by 
giving it the form of play has been and still is one of the com- 
monest of the manifestations of the spirit of reform. The 
reformers themselves never make the mistake of supposing 
that the child is to be permitted to retain the play attitude. 
He is to be interested in the work because it seems like play, 
but, if interest lags, he must be compelled to play. Such 
coercion may well cause the child to feel that the play form is 
merely a pretense. And, if the reformer in an endeavor to 
avoid the need of coercion seeks some new game, that by its 
interest may lull to sleep the suspicions of the child, he simply 
plays at hide and seek with that necessity which his pupil 
must ultimately discover behind all his seductive forms. 
Sooner or later the stark outlines of duty must appear, as the 
genius whose tyrannical spirit dominates work, whether in the 
school or in life. 
Need of pre- Howcver, the reformer will urge that he does not intend to 
distinction^ conccal duty from the child. His design seems to be, not to 
between abolish work, but to lead up through play to such an apprecia- 
worii tion of the meaning and the grounds of duty as shall make the 

child give in freely his devotion to that stern ideal. In this 
plan the partizans of progress may well wish him Godspeed, 
but one should take account of the fact that it contemplates a 
constant widening of the gulf between work and genuine play 
as the pupil grows older. This gulf should be recognized. 



Play 411 

It is one thing to say that with little children education should 
be largely through play, and that this should be the pathway 
of approach to work, and another to maintain that there need 
be no fundamental distinction between them. The latter 
inference is unfortunately apt to be drawn when one speaks 
of play as the means of motivating the difficult tasks of the 
school. 

Not only should the school teach the spirit of work as con- 
trasted with that of play, but among the things in which it 
must give instruction are forms of physical and mental skUl 
that could not be learned except by such prolonged and labo- 
rious effort as must of necessity involve a powerful coercive 
motive. It is, perhaps, impossible to demonstrate that free 
play could not suffice to lead children to master the reading, 
writing, mathematics, etc., which our civiHzation deems essen- 
tial, not to speak of vocational training and of the higher 
phases of liberal culture. It is, however, certain that no school 
has made more than a feeble attempt to get these results by 
play. Historically the appearance of such studies has not 
only introduced work but, as we have seen, tended to drive 
out play. It is the latter unfortunate fact which has led to the 
view so commonly held that play is of no real importance in 
education. 

We may say, then, that the uncritical resort to the play Bad results 
motive has three bad consequences, {a) It fails to differentiate criticai"use 
between what play can and cannot do in the school. The of play as 

-,. -y t f -i i««i ^^ educa- 

conception of play is not properly defined, and it is taken to tionai 
mean any work in which the child is interested as well as gen- method 
uine play. (6) The general public in criticising the efforts 
of reformers, and the disciples of these reformers in attempting 
to carry out their ideas, are apt to conceive of play in the ordi- 
nary sense, as activity which the child engages in merely 
because he likes it and without any appreciation of an ulterior 



412 



Principles of Education 



Four leading 
school mo- 
tives : — 

(i) Play as 
the child 
motive 



utility. The result is that the public regard with suspicion 
the "sugar-coated" education that they think has been intro- 
duced, and the teachers only too often give a ground for their 
suspicions by sedulously avoiding any coercive motive for 
fear of interfering with the freedom of play in the child, 
(c) The emphasis upon play as a device of method distracts 
attention from the far more important task of organizing the 
genuine play activities of children in such a way as to get from 
them the best educational results. The play of the small 
child leads into both the play and the work of the older one. 
The important thing is not that when work appears it should 
be indistinguishable from play, but rather that the play that 
persists should be carefully guarded as an educational force. 

It is evident that, while the love of play is a legitimate 
school motive, it is only one among many. A rough classifi- 
cation of the kinds of school motive yields four types : play, 
the desire for approval and the fear of criticism or punishment, 
utility, and the love of knowledge or skill. In general, the 
play motive is adapted especially to children up through the 
kindergarten. It continues to be a prominent interest all 
through the school period and, indeed, through life. How- 
ever, it is even in the kindergarten beginning to be supplanted 
by social pressure. The desire to be approved must be evoked 
in order to insure whatever of sustained effort this early stage 
of culture demands. Coercion has, it is true, been in evidence 
from much earlier in the child's life. It has, however, been 
directed rather toward negative than positive results, — to 
prevent the child from doing undesirable things, rather than 
to keep him at tasks. The pressure of social standards driv- 
ing them to labor is with most children to-day first felt in the 
influence of the schoolmaster. 

The appeal to the child's desire to get on well with others, 
which may be briefly designated as social pressure, is the 



Play 



413 



(2) Social 
pressure as 
the "work- 
ing" mo- 
tive 



the ado- 
lescent 
against 
school co- 
ercion 



''working" motive of the school. When all other motives 
fail to reach the pupil, this is trusted as a never failing resource. 
To it the master resorts in order to bridge over the transition 
between a period when a certain motive is on the decline, and 
one when another motive is strongly felt. It serves as an 
introduction to subjects the utility of which the child is as yet 
unable to feel. It keeps the child at work when his own pleas- 
ure or his judgment of the value of what he is doing begins 
to lose its stimulating power. It is not only the "working" 
motive but, indeed, as many have felt, a sadly overworked 
one 

Social pressure is, perhaps, the most powerful force in adult Rebellion of 
life, and it is well that the child should become acquainted 
with it early in his school career. It is probable that the kin- 
dergarten child is not too young to be driven to work by it. 
Throughout that age of rivalry in which the games of individual 
contest appeal most strongly, social pressure, as embodied in 
the will of teacher and supported by that of the parents, is the 
natural and effective force that supplements the interest in 
play. There comes a time, however, when with many, if 
not with most, children school work must be justified by other 
reasons than by the fact that success therein is the only road 
to the favor of those in authority over them. The causes 
for this change in attitude are many. Since a large number 
of children are not especially successful in their school occupa- 
tions, they do not find them an avenue to a social distinction 
that seems worth while. They get used to being commonplace 
or to failing, and the social pressure that is continually directed 
toward making them do better loses its sting. Again, the 
children in their wider intercourse with schoolfellows and with 
society outside the school come to realize other forms of 
social pressure besides that emanating from the teacher. 
To be successful and admired among certain groups of children, 



414 Principles of Edtication 

and even of older people, the boy or girl finds that clever 
evasion or an open disregard of the will of the teacher is the 
surest method. Parents and teacher often differ as to what 
sort of conduct is desirable, what should be studied, and how 
much effort should be put forth. Most important of all, 
a developing realization of the larger life, for which school is 
supposed to constitute a preparation, causes the child to ques- 
tion the values of what he is required to learn. 
(3) Need of The period at which the girl or boy begins to reflect upon the 
rkn"cie- ^' relation of the school work to that sort of life which he or she 
fense of admircs is the most critical epoch in the course of education, 
work so far as motivation is concerned. If the earliest period in 

culture can be trusted largely to play, and the middle period 
largely to social pressure, the onset of adolescence makes 
necessary a sound and complete defense of school studies on the 
ground of utility. It is here that most children tend to drop 
out of school, and, unquestionably, not solely because of pov- 
erty, but very largely because the work that is offered them in 
school does not suit their capacities and needs. To children 
who cannot get on in school, its training must inevitably seem 
of little value, but those who can succeed in the course of study 
are not infrequently found to be discontented with it on the 
score of its utility. That the adolescent should question the 
value of what he is asked to do is an eminently healthy attitude. 
It is unfortunate for him if he do not feel that what he is learn- 
ing should lead somewhere in the great world of adult activity, 
and if he be not disposed to call into account whatever he is 
directed to study from the point of view of its ultimate value. 
Only through such criticism can he escape mere passive depend- 
ence upon the standards and the awards of certain authorita- 
tive persons and rise to real freedom. Many cases of success 
in school and failure in life, or of the reverse, are, doubtless, 
due to the fact that in the former environment submissiveness 



Play 415 

is, on the whole, a valuable quality, whereas in the latter a 
premium is placed on independent enterprise. 

The motive of study that appears in pure love of learning or (4) The aca- 
of skill may be called the academic motive. The play motive "teacher's" 
is primarily the child's motive, social pressure is the ''working" motive 
motive, utility the worldly or universal motive, but the aca- 
demic motive is the one most beloved by the teacher. It may 
with justice be called the "teacher's" motive, for men and 
women whose lives are spent in investigating or transmitting 
truth are apt to value that which it is their main concern to give 
as worth while in itself. To the teacher learning is usually 
first, and its application a secondary affair. In endeavoring 
to respond to the challenge of the world he may seek out an 
utility for the learning that he transmits, and he may bow 
to the inevitable and limit himself to teaching the world the 
useful, because instruction in that alone will yield a living, but 
always he feels and strives to make his pupils feel a pure love 
of knowledge or of beauty, which is after all in his estimation 
the highest motive to which his profession can appeal. 

It is to be noticed that the academic motive is a real force Force of the 
with many children, especially with those who succeed well ^ofjy^"^ 
in study. One comes to love what he can do well. Many 
children pass easily from the stage of learning under social 
pressure to a stage of absorption in learning or in artistic 
creation without reference especially to the distinctions that 
can be won through such pursuits. An omniverous appetite 
for knowledge in any or all fields seizes the adolescent. A holy 
devotion to the pure ideals of art, that makes one idealize 
poverty incurred in their service, is common enough an attitude 
to the youth as well as to the man. 

The academic motive is founded on instinct. The instinct its relation to 
of curiosity which constitutes so fundamental an agency in ^^^ 
driving us to accumulate experience for future emergencies 



4i6 



Principles of Education 



Possible in- 
terference 
of the aca- 
demic mo- 
tive with 
efUciency 



lies back of the scholar's love of learning. We may add to 
this the mere fondness for activity, physical and mental, 
which is so prominent in the earliest games of children, and 
that love of harmony which appears as soon as the child's 
imagination begins to waken. Thus the teacher does not need 
to manufacture the academic tastes, for they grow out of the 
simplest factors in the nature of the growing mind. In fact, 
the academic motive is the one most definitely continuous 
with the play motive, and most intimately related to it through- 
out life. Both involve the love of activity for its own sake, and, 
although the academic motive can with its devotees coerce labor 
quite as effectually as any other, it is yet by the world at large as- 
sociated more closely with the freedom of doing what one wants 
to do than with the necessity of doing what must be done. 

Thus the academic motive need not wait until the child 
becomes an expert in any field. It may be gradually nourished, 
and it is to be hoped of every child that he will grow from the 
simple curiosity and love of harmony of his earlier years into 
a catholic interest in the knowledge and the art that have 
come to us from the ages. On the other hand, when the time 
comes for the youth to begin to look toward a vocation, it is 
unfortunate for him if his love of the ideal pursuit of learning 
or of art obscures completely a sense of the utilities of life. 
The teacher's motive may do its work too well. It may be 
the parent of a devotion to other dreams than that of service, 
and so, instead of stimulating, it may paralyze efficiency. 
Herein lies the justification of that complaint so often made 
by the man of the world against the school, that instead of 
preparing it unfits for life. Herein also lies the cause of so 
much discontent with the school on the part of the children 
who feel the call of the world, for to their insistent utilitarian- 
ism it responds with an academic attitude which is as a stone 
to one asking for bread. 



Play 417 

We may sum up this discussion of the love of play as a Summary 
school motive by reiterating that play, as ordinarily conceived, 
is incapable of giving the spirit of work and of holding the child 
to such tasks as are necessary in order to acquire the knowledge 
and the skill requisite either for the standard hberal culture 
of to-day or for any skilled vocation or profession. Hence, 
as the child grows older, coercion must appear and be felt. 
The coercive motives that lead to work are social pressure and 
utility. The former is easily apphed when the school atmos- 
phere is such as to give to the teacher authority. It fails, 
however, as the child grows out of the age of rivalry into that 
of independence. At this juncture it is necessary that it 
should grow into and be supplemented by either the utilitarian 
or the academic motive. It is well if the transition from social 
pressure into these be so cleverly continued that the child 
never feels the constraint of the school to have been arbitrary. 
What teachers have approved drifts insensibly into that which 
is seen to be rationally best, because it suits the necessities of 
the larger life of the world or of the youth's inner nature. 

Meantime, the play of the younger child should not have 
disappeared out of the education of the older one. As lacking 
in the deadly earnestness of the work of the school, it should 
come to be felt as subsidiary, yet none the less it remains, 
from the point of view of life as a whole, an element of prime 
importance. Here the social, the assthetic, and the intellec- 
tual interests can thrive in the most stimulating atmosphere. 
Here the academic motive can grow strong by the mutual 
support of those who entertain it. The play life of the school 
is its life of free individuality, and from free individuality 
springs all devotion to ideals. 



2E 



4i8 Principles of Education 

(2) The organization of play as an educational factor 

Importance It is important to realize the limitations of play as a sub- 
piay*^as^an stitute for the difficult tasks of education in order that the way 
educational jj^^y i,q opened for a clearer apprehension of the desirability 
on the part of the school of a more elaborate organization than 
at present exists of the genuine play of childhood and ado- 
lescence. The discussion of this subject may be broken into 
two parts. First, we may consider the educational value of 
this genuine play as contrasted with the work, which with the 
growth of a sense of responsibility in the child constantly be- 
comes more absorbing. Second, it is an open question to 
what extent the school can profitably take a hand in the 
organization and control of play activities. 
Contrasting When we Compare the educational results of play and work, 
social qua!- we uotice that the former is more effective in two particulars, 
ities cuiti- j^ cultivates certain social qualities, certain ethical virtues, far 

vated by , ... 

play and more effectively than does work, and it is especially valuable 
as a means of stimulating that rational attitude which we 
have called originality, or initiative. The virtues that play 
calls into activity are especially such as involve familiarity 
with the feelings and attitudes of others and the power of 
adaptation to social situations. Courage and confidence, tact 
and consideration, abiHty to cooperate, and a sense of the power 
that comes from this source, leadership, loyalty, and altru- 
ism, — all find in the intercourse of the game, or of such activ- 
ity as may be classified as play, favorable opportunity for 
development. On the other hand, the virtues that work cul- 
tivates are especially obedience, patience, perseverance, and 
industry. Finally, the contrast between work and play devel- 
ops the sense of relative values upon which it is founded. 

It is not meant that either play or work cultivates one set of 
virtues to the exclusion of the others, but that each furnishes 



work 



Play 419 

the most effective environment to cause certain traits to flour- 
ish. The especial value of play as a basis of social culture arises 
from the fact that games depend so largely upon the social 
instinct for their interest, and partly from the great variety 
of social situations that the freedom of the game permits 
and fosters. In work the social attitudes are as a rule more 
restricted and permanent in character. In play they vary 
with surprising rapidity. If one fails to excel in one sport, 
he may try another. In the revolutions of position that the 
fortunes of one game or the shifting from one game to another 
involve, each usually finds himself with an opportunity to 
display whatever social talent he possesses. Moreover, the 
group games depend upon the cooperation of the individuals 
who take part. If one leads, it is because the others are willing 
to follow. If all are not content with the rules and the con- 
ditions of the sport, it cannot succeed. The game is demo- 
cratic, and affords an opportunity to the individual to exercise 
such a variety of powers and functions as to give great social 
adaptability. 

The same freedom that makes the game so serviceable for Play and the 
the cultivation of social skill renders it valuable as a means of resource^ 
developing originality. Here, doubtless, we find the reason fulness 
for whatever truth there is in the proverb, ''All work and no 
play makes Jack a dull boy." In play new situations arise 
with great frequency. The democracy of the social relation- 
ship gives each one a chance to show what he can do, and often 
such chances will be taken with great gain in confidence. 
Thus the habit of casting about among one's resources for a 
solution to a difficulty is cultivated. It must be noted, how- 
ever, that many children get into the habit of relying on 
others for these solutions, and that the cooperative character 
of the game renders such an attitude quite easy to assume. 
Nevertheless, the game is probably not so likely to cultivate 



this pur- 
pose 



420 Principles of Education 

passivity and subserviency as work, just because the latter 
is a matter of coercion while the former is free. The variety of 
social changes that play presents can scarcely fail to thrust 
upon the attention of each individual the advantages of 
independence and resourcefulness. If he does not develop 
these qualities, it is not for want of an opportunity, but be- 
Superiority causc he docs not possess them. Work, on the contrary, is apt 
riout^ rob- ^° cultivate the tendency to imitate and to obey, to control 
lem for ouc's sclf in the service of a rule and a standard that comes 
from without. Only when through the skill of the teacher it 
takes the form of problems, does it directly aim to lead the 
child to be original. When this is done, the insistent character 
of the situation gives it an advantage over play. If the play- 
ing child does not rise to the situation, he may satisfy him- 
self by regarding the whole matter as of no importance. The 
general seriousness of work tends to remove the possibility of 
this attitude. On the other hand, play makes up for its 
feebleness in coercion by the abundance and variety of the 
situations that it offers. 
Absence of If it be granted that the activities of play afford a special 

democratic Opportunity for the development of social adaptabihty and 
education resourcefulness, it is plain that the schools of a democracy can- 
not afford to neglect them. At present, however, the em- 
phasis tends in the other direction. The nineteenth century, 
with its popular systems of education, may be said to have prac- 
tically solved the problem of literacy for the masses in the pro- 
gressive nations. But universal education has meant a school 
for those whose lot in life is not leadership nor leisure, but 
breadwinning, usually by methods involving much manual toil. 
Having solved the preliminary problem of literacy, education 
is now turning more and more to that of cultivating vocational 
efficiency. It is natural, therefore, that the school, particu- 
larly the free school, should be infused with the spirit of toil, 



Play 42 1 

and that, in the endeavor to hold the children who are so apt 
to leave as soon as the law permits, it should be striving to 
appeal especially to the sense of utility in them and their 
parents. 

But while, on the one hand, modern conditions have tended Especial need 
to universalize the demand for vocational education, they ^^^ ^^^ 

' ■' presence 

have also, on the other, created a need for the liberalizing 
forms of culture in the emancipated masses. The problem of 
the relation between Hberal and vocational education will be 
attacked later, but it is in place here to note the importance 
in the new scheme of universal education of activities which 
are essentially forms of play. For such activities have been 
found to be peculiarly fitted to cultivate social resourcefulness 
and efficiency, quahties especially necessary in a democracy, 
where the individual is not bound to the status of birth, but is 
thrown on his own responsibility to find the place that his 
talents and his energy entitle him to occupy. To lead when 
leadership is one's appropriate function, to follow without 
subserviency when others are from talents or fortune put in 
position to control, to be always ready to utilize one's re- 
sources when the opportunity comes, — these are qualities that 
are especially valuable in the life of a democracy, and they 
are qualities that are nowhere better cultivated than in the 
game. Hence this phase of the life of the child, crowded out 
of the curriculum on account of its apparent lack of utility, 
should again find entrance because of its relation to that 
social flexibility which has become so necessary for all. 

Among the phases of this modern endeavor to utilize play Modem en- 
may be mentioned the development of gymnasiums and 
school playgrounds, the appearance of teachers of physical 
culture and directors of athletics, the encouragement and 
growth of systems of student self-government, the fostering of 
all sorts of subsidiary student enterprises, as newspapers and 



422 Principles of Education 

periodicals, religious, literary, scientific, and social clubs, the 
establishment of recreation centers, such movements as that 
of the Young Men's Christian Association, involving a variety 
of physical and mental sports together with educational fea- 
tures in addition to rehgion, the development of school ex- 
cursions and summer camps, and the reorganization of ele- 
mentary education so that social activity, much of which is 
play, may be made more prominent, as has been attempted 
Need of adult in the Experimental School at Chicago. In all these develop- 
controi ments the principle that play, in order to produce its best 
results, needs a large measure of adult encouragement and 
even adult organization and control is illustrated. The child 
needs to be taught to play as well as to work. Gymnasiums 
without instructors lie unused. School playgrounds with- 
out directors become the scene of mere random intercourse, 
such as scuflfling and rowdyism. If such things are true of 
apparatus and provision for physical sports, much more true 
is it that mental games require assistance from the instructor. 
Children teach each other to play, but beyond a certain point 
all progress in the game depends upon adult interest and in- 
fluence. The game does not evolve into a better instrument 
for education unless such adult influences are brought to bear 
upon it. Of course, this need of the support and advice of 
elders becomes less important as the child grows older. How- 
ever, even the games of adults need careful watching lest 
pastime prove mere waste time, or, worse, time for degenera- 
tion. 

This supervision on the part of the school will, doubtless, 
as time goes on become increasingly important. As a nation 
we shall be taught how to play as well as how to work. By 
wise control many institutions of school life that are com- 
monly regarded as objectionable may be utilized. The fra- 
ternity is an example. Unregulated, it is often a school of 



Play 423 

snobbishness, of idleness, of dissipation. On the other hand, 
it can be made a source of social culture and of inspiration 
scarcely less valuable than the regular studies of the cur- 
riculum. If the former objectionable features can be warded 
off, a great agency for education is saved. The "let alone" 
policy here, as with other playful activities, is not the only 
alternative to complete suppression. There are methods 
of regulation that do not destroy the essentials of control by 
the students. These methods have not been perfected, — 
indeed, very few have even been tried. It is a safe prophecy 
that, when the school authorities come fully to realize the im- 
portance of these student activities, they will not find the 
problem of regulation insurmountable. For it is not the im- 
possibility of regulating play while preserving its playfulness 
that constitutes the fundamental difficulty. It is rather the 
failure on the part of the school to recognize the value in edu- 
cation of anything aside from its prescribed curriculum. 

Four practical consequences of the assumption of respon- Practical 
sible control over play by the school may be distinguished, quencesof 
These are: (i) the lengthening of the school day; (2) far anade- 
more elaborate development and supervision of playground of play in 
activities, club life, and pupil organizations of all sorts ; education 
(3) the correlation of these play activities with the work of the 
school ; (4) the growth of the school into the intellectual and 
social center of the community, by enlisting the cooperation 
of parents in the play activities, with a consequent transforma- 
tion of the avocations and of the social and political activities 
of the adults in the school environment. 

(i) The city school seems to be drifting in two directions; (0 Super- 
toward a shortening of the program of study and recitation, Inda^^^ 
and toward the establishment of supervision over recreation, longer 

mi . • • 1 1 M 1 1 • 1 school day 

The growmg conviction that children are kept at their tasks 
much longer than is necessary to accomplish the desired 



424 



Principles of Education 



results and that time is wasted in constraint without achieve- 
ment might easily result in a much shorter school day, were 
it not for the problem of the occupation of the children for 
the rest of the time. On the farm this would have been an 
easy task. In the city of to-day it is quite a different matter. 
The advocate of the niggardly policy in the support of the 
schools might welcome the shortening of the working day, 
if he were not at the same time facing an inevitable increase 
in the expense of supervising the playground activity. Such 
additional expense we may confidently expect, not only in the 
city but in the country. For while the city needs supervised 
play to keep the children from degenerate social intercourse, 
the country needs it to supply a deficiency in social life. The 
character of the play activities as well as the hours that are de- 
voted to them might well vary according to the character of 
the community, but that great movement for the utilization 
of play which is rapidly sweeping over the cities must inevi- 
tably affect the country school as well. 

(2) The play life of the school should aim at all the leisure 
sion of the jj^|-gj.gsts of life. There should be organizations for athletics, 

program ° ' 

social companionship, literary and artistic enjoyment and 
creation, the drama, intellectual investigations, excursions and 
travel, self-government, and political and social betterment. 
Such organizations would inevitably trench considerably on 
the work done in the regular curriculum of the school of to- 
day. This result is to be welcomed. If the work of the 
school belongs to the play of life, it is not properly placed in 
the curriculum. A very large portion of the literary and ar- 
tistic study of the school is most clearly better suited to what 
may be called its play life, and could be more effectively cul- 
tivated therein. The same thing may be said of much of the 
history, science, and mathematics. The control of such work 
can probably be most effectively intrusted to pupil organiza- 



(2) Expan- 



of play 



Transfer of 
school 
studies to 
the play 
program 



Play 



425 



tions over which the teachers exercise a more indirect control 
than over the tasks of the schoolroom. In this way some 
pupils may learn less science or history or literature, but many, 
if not most, will learn far more than they do to-day. 

(3) The play life of the school will lead into the avocations 
of the man. But it is what man does aside from his vocation 
that determines the tastes, the needs, the standards of life of 
the community. These standards, as we noted in discussing 
the general theory of play, create the vocations. So, too, in 
the school, the play life may be trusted to create demands that 
will motivate the work done in the classroom. Thus the cur- 
riculum may be made to have a double utility to the child. 
On the one hand, it may bear directly upon the adult vocation 
toward which he is eagerly or anxiously looking ; on the other, 
it may be correlated with the avocations which absorb con- 
tinuous interest. When these avocations are lifted into im- 
portance by careful organization and supervision, they may 
become a far more stimulating source of motive than is avail- 
able to the schoolmaster to-day. 

(4) If there is any activity in which adult and child meet 
on common ground, it is that of play. The school cannot 
engage the inspection nor even the interest of parents in any 
exercises so well as in those show performances that are not 
its work, but only its sport. The adult cannot be expected 
to go to school to work. He can easily be led to go there to 
play. The proper development of this phase of school life 
would mean the creation of a social center to which the child 
who has left school and entered his vocation might continue 
to resort. In its activities the adults of the community 
might be led to take part. Thus both in the country and in 
the city the school might become the intellectual and social 
center of the community, and give that unifying spirit and 
that comprehensive interest in all phases of Ufe which the 



(3) Motiva- 
tion of 
school 
work 
through 
relation 
the play 
program 



to 



(4) The play 
of the 
school as a 
center of 
community 
life 



426 Principles of Education 

churches, on account of denominational strife and exchisive 
interest in spiritual salvation, have often failed to render. 
Such participation on the part of the adults in the avocations 
of the school would make it possible for education to affect 
the inner tastes and standards of the community, and thus 
to control the social conditions from whence arise the demands 
that it exists to supply. Instead of trusting passively that 
its graduates shall carry out its ideals in a strange and hostile 
en\-ironment. it might retain its grip upon them. Certainly 
one step in the process of making the school like life is that of 
making life like the school. 



PART III 
THE EDUCATIONAL AGENCIES 



CHAPTER XIV 

ANALYSIS OF THE EDUCATIONAL AGENCIES 

Section 47. The educational institutions 

The educational agencies may be classified into the edu- Social insti- 
cational institutions and the educational materials, or the the°cu^r^'^ 
course of study. Both of these are properly to be regarded as ricuium as 
agencies, or active forces in education ; for while we may tionai 
naturally think of the curriculum as being passively taught, agencies 
in contrast with the institutions, like the family and the school, 
which actively teach, nevertheless, a more careful analysis will 
show that both agencies are essentially the same in function. 
They are both directive forces in education, and they make 
up that educational environment into conformity with which 
it is the function of the educational process to bring the body 
and the mind of the individual. 

In truth, an institution might, without any departure from The institu- 
essential fact, be called a course of study. It consists in a courseof^ 
group of standard forms of conduct through which society per- study 
forms one great function, or, perhaps, several associated ones. 
Originally, the curriculum of a normal education consisted in 
simply learning how to live in conformity to the prevailing 
institutions. Social heredity clustered about social organiza- 
tion, and the child was educated only by a sort of apprentice- 
ship in the social life of the adult. The course of study, as dis- Rise of the 
tinct from institutional life, originates in the separation of some *^"" '^^ ""^ 
habits and ideas such as the primitive child learns by merely 
taking part in the ordinary life about bim, and their incor- 
poration in a compact form in the instruction and practice of 

429 



430 



Principles of Ediication 



The family 
and the 
school as 
especially 
devoted to 
education 



Part of the 
church, the 
state, and 
the voca- 
tion in edu- 
cation 



a special phase of life, — that of the school. This curriculum 
has been enormously expanded until it has seemed to include 
very much that has little, if anything, to do with the actual 
practices of institutional Hfe. However, this does not vitiate 
the fundamental proposition that the course of study in the 
largest sense is the material of social heredity, while an insti- 
tution consists of a special body of this material of habits 
and ideas in active operation among the individuals of a group 
to fulfill one of the great functions of society. 

It follows that all the institutions of society are educative. 
They consist of practices which the child observes, imitates, and 
eventually embodies into the groundwork of his own conduct. 
Some institutions, however, since they have most to do with 
the child, are especially concerned in education. These are, 
of course, the family and the school. The latter arises in the 
course of that differentiation of functions in society by which 
the various institutions are separated, and, since it is con- 
cerned solely in the function of education, it gradually absorbs 
more and more the educative function of the others. 

Incidentally, the state, the vocation, and especially the 
church are concerned quite extensively in the work of educa- 
tion. The religious institution must of necessity devote 
itself largely to an endeavor to mold the attitudes and be- 
liefs of the individual. It must aim to stir up the religious 
ideas, feelings, and habits in the young, and to keep them alive 
in the adult. Hence the church has always insisted on its 
paramount right in the control of education, and has frequently 
been successful in its claim, — so successful as to absorb into 
itself a very large part of the work of teaching. The problems 
that have arisen because of the identity of interest between 
the church and the school are many, and a few of them will be 
touched upon later. The state has been intimately concerned 
with the religious control of education, and in modern times 



Analysis of the Educational Agencies 431 

its interference has had much to do with the separation of 
the school from the domination of church or family. The 
vocation has been very closely associated with family life. 
Children have tended to follow the vocations of their parents, 
and they have been wont to receive their vocational training 
in connection with the rest of the ciilture that is peculiar to 
the family relationship. However, just as church and state 
have broken loose from the family and instituted a special 
type of culture independent of family control, so the vocation 
has asserted itself and set up its own educational system, 
usually one of apprenticeship, which is dominated by the mem- 
bers of the vocation without reference to family connections. 

Although the family springs into existence as a means of Reason for 
fostering the young, it does not at first assume consciously atingthe" 
the function of training them. Nevertheless, fosterage exists, school 
as we have seen, primarily for the sake of education, and the family 
interest that it involves leads inevitably into that activity. 
By the time this has taken place, and especially before any 
serious attempts have been made at conscious education, the 
family has assumed a number of other functions. It has, in 
many cases, been the unit in political or rehgious organization, 
and it remains to-day to a considerable degree an industrial 
unit, illustrating within itself the division of labor. More- 
over, up to modern times this unit has been nearly, if not quite, 
industrially independent. Possessing all these phases of ac- 
tivity, it is evident that the family could well perform them 
only in very primitive social conditions. As for education, 
the parents have, as a rule, neither the leisure nor the breadth 
of knowledge or of skill to teach a social heritage not readily 
illustrated in the common activities of the home. Even home 
affairs involve phases that require too much special attention 
for the ordinary household to care for them with much success. 

Thus the interests of the child demand that the family shall 



432 



Principles of Education 



Assumption 
of control 
over the 
school by 
the state. 
Resulting 
advan- 
tages 



Position of 
the school 
not yet 
clearly es- 
tablished 



give up part at least of its educational work and transfer this 
to the school. If this were all, the school would have remained 
under the control of the family, as, indeed, it is to a consider- 
able extent even to-day. But wherever the family is not 
identical with the state, the value of education as a means 
of social control leads the regnant social institution to assume 
the supervision of an activity which must be under its sway 
if its power and prestige is to be maintained. Ultimately, 
this transference of the educative function from the family to 
agencies at once more special in function and general in con- 
trol redounds to the interest of the individual. The stages in 
this transition are, however, not all marked by attention or 
service to this interest, and even to-day the question of that 
assignment of authority in educational matters which insures 
the greatest benefit both to the individual and to the commu- 
nity is a matter of debate. 

The school is the latest of the great social institutions to 
become differentiated. Indeed, this process is by no means 
complete, and we are even to-day witnessing in the changes 
occurring before our eyes the growth of independent maturity. 
In a sense, one may say that this growth has reached adoles- 
cence, an age when fantastic notions of the need of independ- 
ence and of the rights of self are rife, to develop later into a 
saner judgment that recognizes the importance of interdepend- 
ence and of service. The issues clustering about the question 
of the position of this newly differentiated social institution 
in reference to the others will receive somewhat more minute 
treatment in the following chapter. In the present one, we'may 
note that in the last century the school has advanced into a 
position of such relative importance as to take its stand be- 
side the family, the church, and even the state, as one of the 
fundamental institutions of society. Thus the educative func- 
tion, so primitive as to be the most important original cause 



Analysis of the Educational Agencies 433 



of the evolution of society/ and so fundamental that through- 
out the ages it may be said to have constituted the chief service 
of society to man, has come at last to such clear recognition 
that it is intrusted to an institution the sole function of which 
is to see that it is properly performed. 

The differentiation of the school and its assumption of the 
general control over social heredity means that society has 
come deHberately to undertake the task of improving itself 
through bettering its education. This advance, although not 
so revolutionary as that earher transition by which social 
heredity came to supplement physiological heredity, and 
largely to take its place, as the bearer of those qualities in 
respect to which rapid progress may be expected,^ is, never- 
theless, a phase of the most important step in social evolution 
since that time. For it indicates a clear recognition of the 
method of evolution by the selection of institutions rather than 
by the selection of men. When this conception comes clearly 
to consciousness, that ideal education which looks toward 
the future, or, in other terms, that rational education which 
has the paradoxical aim of preparing for the unexpected rises 
to supplement and, indeed, in some measure to supplant the 
recapitulatory education that has dominated through the ages 
of human history. Education, always for the individual a 
source of change and, we may assume, progress, becomes with 
the development of recapitulatory education also an agency 
making for social conservatism, quiescence. When, how- 
ever, ideal or rational education becomes plainly defined, and 
especially when society becomes so clearly conscious of its 
value as to differentiate the school in order that it may assume 
control over this function, we may say that education has 
assumed for the race that guardianship of progress which it 
has always exercised for the individual. 



Coincidence 
of the com- 
plete dif- 
ferentia- 
tion of the 
school and 
the rise of 
rational 
education 



' Compare § 12. 

2F 



2 Compare § 8. 



434 



Principles of Education 



Leading 
issues in 
regard to 
the curricu- 
lum 



Distinction 
between 
academic 
and prac- 
tical sub- 
jects 



Distinction 
between 
liberal and 
vocational 
subjects 



Section 48. The educational materials 

Among the many possible classifications of the educational 
materials, the aim of this discussion will be to select those 
which are suggestive of the most important problems to-day. 
Such classifications have, however, an historic significance, 
which must be considered, since it has a bearing on their pres- 
ent interpretation. Four distinctions in subject matter may 
be chosen as embodying the most fundamental educational 
issues. These are (i) the humanities contrasted with the 
sciences; (2) the disciplinary contrasted with the content sub- 
jects; (3) the distinction of academic from practical subjects; 
and (4) of liberal from vocational studies. 

Of these distinctions the two latter will be chosen for most 
extended discussion, and a chapter devoted to each. By 
academic subjects are meant those pursued merely for the 
sake of knowledge or of aesthetic gratification without direct 
reference to the use of the knowledge or of the art in furthering 
specific practical ends. We have science for science's sake 
and "art for art's sake." The one appeals merely to the in- 
tellect, the other to the emotions and the taste. On the 
other hand, both may be treated as merely instrumental to 
the effectiveness of will and thus be converted into practical 
subjects. 

The distinction between liberal and vocational studies is one 
that seems evident on its face. However, the word "liberal" 
has been used in so many senses and the conception of the 
vocation has been so broadened that careful definition is nec- 
essary to get a norm to which to refer variations. In general, 
by liberal studies we shall mean those that prepare for leader- 
ship and leisure, and by vocational ones those that are pursued 
because they contribute to the making of a living. If we re- 
gard leadership as a vocation, the aims are not mutually ex- 



Analysis of the Educational Agencies 435 



elusive. Moreover, as the vocations have become more and 
more rationalized and made scientific, what has historically 
been regarded as having value merely as liberal study the 
present generation has found to contribute to vocational 
efficiency. Hence, frequently the same subject matter may 
be regarded as either liberal or vocational or both. The his- 
torical interrelations of these two kinds of subjects have been 
very suggestive, and their proper status may be said to be still 
a matter of dispute. 

We may note in this introductory statement the association 
of hberal culture with aristocratic life. The word "liberal" 
means, of course, pertaining to freemen, but the freeman 
among the ancients was a member of the governing class, i.e. 
an aristocrat. So, too, at the Renaissance the classic ideal of 
hberal culture was taken up by an aristocracy and interpreted, 
as formerly, from the point of view of the interests of such a 
class. This culture was calculated, as our definition indi- 
cates, to contribute to the noble and free enjoyment of leisure 
and to the ability to govern men. It was not yet thought to 
require any superior skill to serve them. Vocational training 
was despised as the training of a servile class. Gradually, 
however, the thought of service has been ennobled. First, it 
became recognized as possessing moral quahty of the highest 
value, and then, as it grew to be more scientific, this gain in 
intellectual character completed its title to respect. The 
final step in the evolution is attained when the function of 
pubHc control becomes itself recognized as a service and, 
indeed, as a vocation to be rewarded according to the value 
of the service to the community. 

Important as the distinctions between the humanities and 
the sciences is and has been, the questions that it involves are 
rather of historic than of modern interest. At the time of the 
Renaissance humanism was a reaction against spirituaHsm. It 



Liberal cvil- 
ture as 
peculiar to 
an aris- 
tocracy. 
Rise of 
education 
for service 



Disappear- 
ance of the 
struggle 
between 
the human- 
ities and 
science 



436 



Principles of Education 



The humani- 
ties as the 
earhest 
studies to 
promote 
efficiency 



represented devotion to the things pertaining to the present 
world of man rather than to those of the future life with God. 
Literature and history, art and travel, even science itself, were 
from this point of view regarded as humane studies. When, 
however, the humanistic schools, in their endeavor to give their 
pupils a mastery of the classical culture, degenerated into mere 
teachers of dead languages, the reaction known as realism 
made its appearance. Realism is not a protest against human- 
ism as the study of humanity, but rather against humanism as 
linguistic. Its motto is "things rather than words," and es- 
pecially "things before words." Thus the sciences, con- 
ceived as the study of things, came to be opposed to the human- 
ities. But the study of human nature or of social life, or of 
history or literature or of art itself may be scientific, indeed, 
quite as scientific as the study of physical nature. The rec- 
ognition of this fact has gone far toward rendering the dis- 
tinction between science and the humanities of less impor- 
tance than it was. 

One other interesting aspect of this distinction remains. 
Frequently in earlier sections^ the point has been made that 
mankind first directed his intellectual efforts to the mastery 
of social processes, leaving physical nature to be dealt with by 
methods to the devising of which the higher activities of intel- 
ligence were not persistently applied. Success has, in general, 
been attained far more easily by the management of men 
inferior in mind and will than by the attempt to control nature 
effectively. Even where advances in power over the physical 
world have been made by scientific insight, the advantages 
that came from them were as a rule exploited by the social 
overlords, very much as to-day the inventor is apt to serve the 
material interests of his business manager rather than his own. 
In consequence, education and intellectual progress for the 

^ Compare § 14. 



Analysis of the Educational Agencies 437 

ambitious and the intelligent, or what is the same thing, for 
the privileged class, the aristocracy, has tended to be in the 
humanities rather than in the physical sciences. The science 
and art of social control far outran physical science and inven- 
tion. Although not presenting their lessons in methodical 
form, the literature, art, history, travel, court life, etc., by which 
the aristocrat received his education, were replete with practical 
suggestions as to how best to live in order to carry out the tradi- 
tions of his stock. Thus the humanities were in essence social 
science, and this was the science of the privileged class. Mod- 
ern physical science for centuries after it appeared had not 
made many inroads into the field of practice, and could not 
compare with the traditional humane culture as a source of 
efficiency to any class, especially to an aristocracy. 

It is seen that the issue of the humanities versus the sciences 
links itself with that of liberal versus vocational education, 
and also to some extent with that of the relation between 
academic and practical subjects. The question will, therefore, 
be resumed as a phase of the future treatment of these latter 
topics. The issue of disciphnary versus content subjects 
is similarly interconnected with these other problems. We 
have already considered the history of this question,^ but it 
may be worth while to note the alhance between disciplinary Reasons for 
study and both aristocratic and academic education. en^y of 

Three reasons may be offered for the tendency for aristocratic aristocratic 

-^ , r ^ \. education 

education to become disciplinary. In the first place, the to become 

social training in aristocratic schools is so largely dependent ^^y'^'""" 

upon the general forms of intercourse which there prevail that (j) Minor im- 

the curriculum tends to be regarded as of minor importance pJ"'J^^'^^^ 

both by the pupils and the community. What really counts curriculum 

is that the children should learn how to behave with their ^^^^1^^^°' 

peers, how to get on with them, to be imbued with their spirit schools; 

^ Compare § 32. 



438 



Principles of Education 



(2) natural 
association 
of aristo- 
cratic cul- 
ture with 
severity; 



and ideals, and to be capable of assuming, in consequence, a 
position of leadership. Thus the child went to the great 
English Public School, not primarily to become a master of 
the classical languages, but rather to be trained into an English 
gentleman. Under these conditions a curriculum the content 
value of which it would have been hard to defend was, never- 
theless, tolerated, partly because it was not regarded as the 
main thing, partly because it had prestige, and partly because 
aristocracies are so conservative that they dislike to part with 
anything sanctioned by tradition. Indeed, they found some 
value in the ability to use the ancient tongues, in that such a 
power was the mark of an aristocrat, a badge to be acquired 
only by the select. On the other hand, the schoolmasters 
themselves, who could not be content with the view that the 
curriculum was comparatively unimportant, or useful mainly 
because fashionable, urged its disciplinary value, and taught 
it largely with that end in view. 

A second reason for the alliance of liberal and disciplinary 
education is found in the natural association of both with the 
ideal of severity. Discipline has always been thought of as 
the doing of hard things, things that are done, not from pleas- 
ure, but from duty, sometimes things that are done just because 
they are hard and the doing of them is judged to be good for 
the soul or for the powers of the mind. Now in its beginnings 
liberal education was typified in that adolescent training 
which aimed to socialize the individual.^ An important 
phase of this socialization was the ordeal, which was supposed 
to test the ability of the initiate to undergo the hardship and 
pain that might fall to his lot in carrying out his duty to the 
society which he was about to enter. Especially when this 
social education becomes the distinguishing mark of a govern- 
ing class does it acquire the character of impressing an unusual 

1 Compare § 13. 



Analysis of the Educational Agencies 439 

standard of courage and endurance for the sake of honor and 
glory. The Spartan, the Roman, the knightly culture savored 
much of the discipline of severity. Thus it is natural to think 
that any education designed for a leading class must worthily 
test the moral and mental qualities by virtue of which they 
rule. It must be a discipline, a steeling of the soul to heroism. 

Lastly, we note that liberal education is designed for men (3) the aris- 
whose lives present the greatest variety of emergencies. The ne"d of '° 
governing class needs above all a training that fosters the power culture for 
to readjust, rather than the mechanical one that fits a man ity 
for a specific vocation. The difficulty, already noted, of select- 
ing the content subjects of greatest relative value for such 
culture as this leads the liberal school to fall back on a dis- 
cipline that is supposed to train the powers of the mind without 
reference to the subject matter which is taught. As life is 
always most complex for those who stand at the front of prog- 
ress, so the demand for ideal or rational education appears first 
among the leading classes, and the conception of disciplinary 
training is, as it were, \.h.Q false dawn that precedes the rise of a 
liberal culture the content of which is adapted to faciHtate the 
treatment of new situations. 

As regards the relation between disciplinary and academic Discipline as 
culture, it may be noted that whenever knowledge that has 
confessedly, nay proudly, divorced itself from practice finds 
itself in default of any utilities, to which to appeal, it usually ture 
invokes that of discipline. This defense ordinarily satisfies 
the critics, and permits academic culture to go on without 
further challenge. Here the notion of discipline plays its usual 
role as a bulwark of defense for those whose weapons of offense 
are not of a kind to encourage them to seek battle in the open 
field. 



nan aim 
for aca- 
demic cul- 



CHAPTER XV 



THE EVOLUTION OF THE SCHOOL 



The school 
a result 
of the ex- 
pansion of 
culture 



Adolescent 
training, 
written 
language, 
and the 
school. 

The school 
as a cause 
of better 
and more 
culture 



Section 49. The differentiation of the school 

The institutions of society are in their evolution subject to 
the law of differentiation and integration which Spencer makes 
so fundamental in this process. As it separates itself from 
the common mass of customs in primitive human inter- 
course, each of these institutions carries with it the function 
of educating men in the ideals and practices peculiar to it. The 
method of teaching is at first simply that of causing the young 
to take part in the institutional life that is to be mastered. 
The differentiation of the school is primarily the result of the 
appearance of forms of culture which institutional life and 
general social intercourse cannot give effectively or adequately 
without the aid of some special agency for education. 

We have already noted the origin of the school from the 
special exercises of adolescence among primitive men/ and from 
the development of written language.^ The exercises of ado- 
lescence were largely the product of a growing conviction that 
there should be some conscious, specific, and impressive effort 
to initiate young men and young women into the duties and 
customs to which they were expected to conform when they 
assumed full membership in the tribe. The differentiation of 
this training makes it effective. It also opens the way for an 
expansion in amount of training beyond what is given through 

1 Compare § 13. * Compare § 14. 

440 



The Evolution of the School 441 

merely partaking in institutional life. The exercises have 

been grouped under (i) ordeals, (2) initiatory rites, (3) drill, 

(4) instruction in tribal traditions, laws, and beliefs. The 

two latter factors are especially capable of expansion. In a increase of 

mihtary society, drill may come to be a matter of several years ^^ 

of training. Indeed, when with the specific mihtary exercises 

there is joined gymnastic culture preparatory to them, such as 

we find among the Spartans, the whole may fill the entire period 

from early childhood to adolescence. 

But if the drill is capable of expansion, the fourth element increase of 
in these adolescent exercises, viz., the instruction in tribal ^^^™f.^ "^- 

' ' struction 

traditions, laws, and behefs, is still more potential for growth. 
With this growth there usually goes the development of a 
learned class. Since rehgion plays such an important part in 
early learning, the learned class is ordinarily a priesthood. 
This class often constitutes an hereditary caste, as Brahmans, 
Chaldees, or Levites. It may be even more important in gov- 
ernment than the military class or caste, especially where 
settled conditions prevail, as in China or India, or it may 
itself be identified with the military class, as among the Greeks 
or Romans 

The school becomes indispensable as an auxiliary to the pres- Learning be- 
ervation of the ideas and practices of a learned class when once esoteric 
this learning becomes embodied in written language. The 
ideographs of early forms of writing are in the beginning simple, 
but when they come to cover a wide range of objects the labor 
of learning a separate symbol for each word becomes enormous. 
Thus the work of the school accumulates. The very difficulty 
of this work tends to render learning more and more exclusive, 
the esoteric property of a learned class, who strive to express 
its teachings in prescriptions to the uncultured, and who cher- 
ish the detail of their culture as the source of their prestige and 
power. 



442 Principles of Education 

Control of The learned class that is thus differentiated may be a govern- 

famiiy or'^ ing class OF the mere servant of such a class. In any case, 
caste since early culture is of primary importance for social control, 

the governing class in the community must retain a grip upon 
it. So far the school, although it may be differentiated from 
the family, is yet under its control. Children are trained ac- 
cording to their hereditary status, and the dominant family 
or group of families in the community prescribes the culture 
that the school shall give. Indeed, in early civilization the 
family is almost invariably the supreme institution. Not 
only the education of the child, but also his religion and his 
status in church or state, depend upon heredity; that is, 
upon family relationship. Where government is in the hands 
of hereditary classes, there the state is, in effect, only a sort of 
a family. 

The first phase of the differentiation of the school may be 

said, then, to consist in the accumulation of culture material 

Phases in the and the appearance of a special class of men who devote them- 

tion oTthe sclvcs to the busiucss of teaching. The second phase involves 

school the growth of a culture that is dissociated from family interests, 

and the gradual development of a school not in the service of 

privileged classes. In this step the fortunes of the school have 

been allied with those of the church and the state in their 

struggle for distinctness and independence from the family. 

Finally, the school has broken loose from the church, and in 

alliance with the democratic state has assumed more and more 

complete and independent control of the work of education. 

We have yet to analyze a little more completely the two latter 

movements. 

Second The second phase of the differentiation of the school can be 

Rise of ui '^"^ ^^^ beginnings well illustrated in classical antiquity. Among 

ture not to the Grccks the education was at first strictly subordinated to 

trolled by ^^^ interests and ideals of the dominant class. The growth 



The Evolution of the School 443 

of learning produced, however, two new types of culture, each the govern- 
of which tended to lift the teaching class out of its position of '"^ ^ ^ 
subordination. These were philosophy and oratory. Philos- Philosophy 
ophy included a great range of subjects, metaphysics, ethics, example 
politics, and the existent sciences. The pursuit of these studies 
led men, on the one hand, to question the wisdom and the 
justice of the prevaiKng social order, or, on the other, to become 
interested in the intellectual life as a pursuit of leisure. The 
first effect put the sophist, or wise teacher, in the position of 
knowing many things of which the socially ambitious could not 
afford to be ignorant, something for which he was willing to 
give pay both in honor and wealth. The second effect made the 
philosopher entirely independent of worldly affairs, since he 
found in his pursuit of wisdom an adequate career. To a 
civilization that idealized a life of leisure the sage had some- 
thing not to be commanded, but rather to be eagerly sought. 
Thus in both ways the rise of philosophy tended to put the 
learned or wise man, the teacher, in a position of control rather 
than of subordination. He rose above the status of a mere 
instrument of the privileged class in its work of social control. 

In a similar way, oratory gave the sophist a measure of inde- Oratory as an 
pendence. His art was an accomplishment through which 
the possessor, even if he were a mere common man, was able 
to win political and legal success. Hence, the teacher of ora- 
tory could command patronage. In his possession was an 
instrument of social control that the aristocrat could not domi- 
nate, but must seek, or be worsted by one who, although in- 
ferior in rank, was superior in social skill. The sophist, whether 
teacher of philosophy or of oratory, was disliked by the old 
aristocracy, but he was not easily to be put down, and, since 
in his hands there was a culture which was not the servant of 
hereditary privilege, he Hf ted the school into a measure of inde- 
pendence of the family. 



example 



444 



Principles of Education 



Continued 
independ- 
ence of 
learning in 
the im- 
perial age 
of Rome 



Further 
growth of 
this inde- 
pendence 
with Chris- 
tianity 



After Greece lost its independence, its schools of oratory and 
philosophy, being cosmopoHtan, still retained their appeal. 
Athens was transformed from a capital into an university. 
''Captive Greece took captive her rude conqueror." With the 
growth of imperialism and militarism the political uses of this 
higher culture became less important, but philosophy and 
letters retained their attractiveness as pursuits worth while 
for their own sake. Through them the individual, whether 
he were an Epictetus, inspiring a life of slavery with a profound 
moral ideal, or an AureHus, worn out by the cares of state, 
but ever refreshed and strengthened by philosophic medita- 
tion, or a Boethius, ending a career of greatness in a dungeon, 
found refuge from the arbitrary fortunes of worldly affairs. 
Thus the schoolmaster who taught this higher culture became 
an independent factor among the conflicting interests of men, 
and the school that he represented appealed to the individual 
without reference to his relations to any other social institu- 
tion. 

The establishment of Christianity meant the exaltation and 
the popularizing of this higher life apart from worldly interests. 
The new cosmopolitan religion absorbed the function of pre- 
serving and teaching the learned culture. Rejecting much, 
it at the same time saved the essence of Platonic philosophy 
in its theology and the essence of the Stoic theory of conduct 
in its morals. Above all, it emphasized far more than even 
those highest products of ancient intellectual and moral culture 
the inner Hfe, now conceived as the life of the soul, rather than 
that of the intellect. In this life, the life alone with God, even 
the humblest believer was held to partake. Spiritual welfare 
meant not wealth nor rank nor anything pertaining to the 
world, but rather that inner unity of the soul with the Father 
in which alone was found something of eternal value. On such 
a view, learned education became intensely individualistic 



The Evolution of the School 445 

and remote from social concerns. Although indirectly religion 
was here, as always, a tremendous factor in social control, its 
professed ideal was unworldly rather than that of fostering the 
interests of any community or even the secular interests of the 
universal man. 

Its alliance with the church rendered learned culture quite 
independent of family. Christianity aimed to set the son 
against the father, if the father were not a Christian. It 
regarded the individual as a child of God rather than of man, 
an heir to immortality rather than to a mere visible body. 
In the eyes of the church human parentage counted as nothing 
for salvation, and hence the education that was concerned in 
spiritual matters must be free to all who wished it. Thus the 
church became the advocate of universal education, so far as 
religious matters were concerned. 

On the other hand, this independence of education from the instruction 
family concerned only its religious aspect. The school sep- ch^^ch 
arates itself from its parent and early master by restricting mainly re- 
the subject matter of its instruction, and by becoming adopted control of 
by the church. This dependence of education upon religious suchin- 

... 1 1 • f 1 '11 struction 

institutions rendered it a servant of the social and worldly by special 
interests of churches, whenever such ambitions took possession interests 
of the professed guardians of the soul. Thus, both from the 
point of view of the limitation of its subject matter and that 
of its control by an institution with other than educational 
interests, the alliance of church and school was ultimately 
unsatisfactory to the latter. 

The complete differentiation of the school has come about Third phase 
through the gradual growth of secular learning, and the accom- Jerentia- 
panying assumption of national control over education, in tionofthe 
order that this culture might be adequately fostered and justly 
distributed to the young. We may note the following phases 
in the development of secular learning : — 



446 



Principles of Education 



The growth 
of secular 
culture 



Philosophy 
and science 



Law and 
medicine 



The humani- 
ties 



Literacy for 
the masses 



(i) Scholasticism and the Renaissance led to the develop- 
ment of a mass of philosophy and science that was essentially 
secular in character. This culture caused the differentiation 
in the universities of Europe of the department of philosophy 
from that of theology. It also found its way into the second- 
ary schools of the Renaissance. 

(2) The eleventh and twelfth centuries witnessed the revival 
of law and medicine, so that they assumed the dignity that 
they had gained among the Romans. This was due to the 
growth of new political and social conditions that favored their 
practice, to the gradual accumulation of a body of learning in 
each field, and especially to the recovery of the treatises on law 
and medicine by the ancients. Thus two secular departments of 
learning appeared in the medieval university as soon as it was 
founded, or, at least, shortly after. In consequence, although 
under the church, it was largely devoted to secular learning. 

(3) The Renaissance created or brought into prominence a 
mass of literature, history, philosophy, etc., that appealed 
strongly to the aristocracy, partly because of a change in politi- 
cal and social conditions, such as the development of court life 
and of diplomacy and the accumulation of wealth, and partly 
because of the slow but continuous development of taste. The 
revival of the ancient literature served as food for this new 
appetite, and afforded a nucleus for humanistic education, 
which became practically the sole form of culture in the sec- 
ondary schools. 

(4) Protestantism emphasized the importance of literacy 
for all, thus urging the need for the creation of common schools. 
This literacy was, it is true, conceived to be a necessary phase 
of religious culture, inasmuch as it furnished the foundation 
for that first-hand knowledge of the Scriptures deemed requi- 
site if each one were to exercise his right and duty of private 
judgment on matters of religion. However, the ability to read 



The Evolution of the School 447 

and write is in itself a secular rather than a religious accom- 
plishment, and any attempt to render it universal involves 
elaborate provisions on the part of the community for secular 
training. Thus religion led the way in promoting the giving of 
culture that ultimately found its main value in worldly affairs. 

(5) The application of science to the vocations transformed Scientific in- 
many that were only trades into true professions, and some in'^thlT- 
occupations that were entirely unskilled into trades involving cation 
considerable scientific knowledge. The mass of workers in the 
occupations vitalized by science came to use their brains quite 

as much as their hands, and, in order that they might do this 
effectively, a preliminary school training became increasingly 
necessary. Moreover, the breaking down of the apprentice 
system tended to compel the school to assume vocational 
training hitherto intrusted to that agency, so that the school is 
now called upon to give, not only the additional preparation 
that present as compared with past methods require for a 
vocation, but also much of that preparation that was formerly 
gained by the child while carrying on the activities of the 
vocation itself. 

(6) The rise of popular forms of government has created a Training in 
need for training in the duties of citizenship. On the ground 

that it was necessary in order to give this training, Horace 
Mann first urged the importance of more liberal state support of 
schools in the United States. Republican government, he con- 
tended, demanded a special culture for the enfranchised masses. 

(7) In addition to universal education in literacy, in science Universal 
as a basis for the vocation, and in civics, modern democratic the "masses 
life has brought about democratization of culture in art, Kt- 
erature, history, and science apart from that which is utihzed 

in the vocation. What the Renaissance aimed to give to the 
aristocracy, modern education aims to transmit in a measure 
to all. 



448 



Principles of Education 



The nation- 
alization 
of educa- 
tion. 
Reasons 
for it 



Steps in this 
process 

The univer- 
sities be- 
come iden- 
tified with 
the nations 



The growth of all this secular culture and its incorporation 
into the curriculum brought with it the nationalization of in- 
struction. Three reasons may be offered for this. In the first 
place, secular instruction, in order to secure its privileges and 
its relative importance, felt the need of placing itself under the 
protection and ultimately the control of the state. Only in 
this way could philosophy and science, the humanities and 
vocational culture shake themselves free from the ecclesiastical 
or the denominational control that inevitably tended to empha- 
size culture in religion, and especially in orthodoxy, at their 
expense. Secondly, the extraordinary increase in the work to 
be done by the school gradually forced the state, as the most 
powerful and the most resourceful institution of society, to 
undertake this educational task, with which it alone was able 
to cope. Lastly, the growth of the democratic idea that 
secular education, like the religious education of Christianity, 
should be distributed justly to all made it necessary for the 
state to do what private or religious agencies must inevitably 
fail properly to attain, since, even when they are animated by 
the motive of charity, they are, after all, kindest to their own. 

This process of nationalizing education presents the follow- 
ing interesting historical stages : — 

(i) The University Charter} — The medieval universities 
were chartered both by the Pope and by the temporal sovereign 
in the territory of their location. The former charter gave 
them the right to teach and to grant degrees that were licenses 
to teach. The latter gave them certain civil and political 
privileges, corresponding in general to the benefit of clergy. 
Now, although the educational function is here exercised in the 
name of the church, and by virtue of authority derived there- 
from, nevertheless, the chartering of a special educational 
institution meant the separation of the educational function 
^ Compare Rashdall, Universities of Europe in the Middle Ages. 



The Evolution of the School 449 

from the ecclesiastical one, so far as the university was con- 
cerned. This differentiation led to further educational inde- 
pendence, an independence which the political charter of the 
university tended to emphasize and support. The long 
struggle at the University of Paris between the Faculties and 
the Chancellor, who represented the church, — a struggle 
the outcome of which was a practical victory on the part of the 
University, — is typical of a conflict that went on all over 
Europe. It tended to identify the university, as a place where 
philosophy was taught as well as theology, where the prac- 
titioners of law and medicine were trained as well as the priest, 
with the nation in the territory of which it was situated, and 
to reduce the amount of control that the central authorities 
of the church exercised. 

(2) State and Private Support of Renaissance Secondary Schools. Secondary 
— The humanistic culture created its own schools. Some come°under 
of these, such as the colleges of the Jesuits, were closely under state con- 
religious control. All, however, were at least partially differen- 
tiated from the ecclesiastical organization of the church. Some 
were fostered by private endowments, by the nobility, by 
princes, or by municipaHties. All of these tended to come under 
national control. 

(^) The Rise of National Churches. — The Protestant move- National con- 

^^^ -^ , 1 , • 1 1 trol of the 

ment brought the church largely under national control, church af- 
The head of the state became the head of the church within ^^^^^^^^ 
his dominions. As such, he controlled education as well as 
other spiritual affairs.^ When the function of educational con- 
trol, support, and supervision became more extensive, it became 
practically distinct from that of religion. 

(4) The Establishment of National Systems to promote Univer- Universal 

^^■' ■' -^ . , state popu- 

sal Civic and Industrial Efficiency. — Four distmct reasons may lar educa- 
tion in the 
^ In the German states to-day education and spiritual affairs belong to the nineteenth 
same department. century 



450 



Principles of Education 



be noted for this interest on the part of the state in universal 
Its causes education. First, in the development of nationahties like that 
of Germany to-day, education was recognized as a most im- 
portant agency for rousing patriotism, developing the national 
sense, and promoting that citizenship which would best make 
for national solidarity, welfare, and glory. The state could 
from interested motives concern itself in fostering an educa- 
tion that furthered national political purposes. Second, in 
democracies we have another case of the growth of national 
education as a means of social control. The early argument 
for liberal state support of education is based on the supposed 
need of general intelligence and culture among the citizens, if 
the nation were to be saved from the arts of the corruptionist 
and the demagogue.^ Third, in the modern commercial and 
industrial rivalry of states many nations have come to feel that 
success depends largely on efficient education in the scientific 
foundations of trade, manufacturing, agriculture, mining, 
building, transportation, and engineering. Hence the extraor- 
dinary development of schools for such instruction by Euro- 
pean states. Finally, the state is rapidly coming to feel that 
it should cultivate this increased efficiency on the part of its 
citizens, not only because such a gain makes for national great- 
ness, but also because it brings about an increase in the individ- 
ual welfare which it is the business of the state to foster. Thus 
the nation comes to do in the service of the individual that 
which it first undertook in order to serve itself. 
Summary In reviewing the process by which the school is differentiated 

from the other social institutions, we notice these aspects : 
the effect of accumulating culture in forcing the educational 
function to become specialized ; the subordination of the school 
to family, church, or state in their endeavor to use its culture 

^ Compare Horace Mann, Necessity of Education in a Republican Government, 
and the views of Washington and Jefferson. 



The Evolution of the School 451 

as a source of social control ; and the gaining of freedom by 
the school through the rise of "academic" culture and of cul- 
ture of value primarily to the efficiency of the individual rather 
than to the supremacy of a privileged class. The differen- 
tiating effect of additions to the subject matter of culture 
is illustrated continuously through educational history. In 
the beginning, it brought about the learned class and the school. 
Later, the rise of academic culture enabled the learned class 
to break loose from the control of privileged classes. Ulti- 
mately, the school alHed itself with the church and became 
excessively unworldly, so unworldly that in its zeal for the 
eternal interests of the individual it often forgot his temporal 
ones, if, indeed, they were not consciously overlooked and 
abused. Democratic as the church was in spiritual affairs, 
it could yet defend the doctrine of the "divine rights of kings" 
and enter into a fierce struggle for temporal power. The rise 
of the modern type of education for efiiciency meant educa- 
tional ideals and materials which concern the welfare of the 
individual rather than that of any special class or institution. 
Hence, it led to the complete differentiation of the school. 
To gain this independence it allied itself with the state. This 
institution, although at first it made use of education to pro- 
mote national ends, such as self-preservation, glory, or wealth, 
has ultimately come to permit the school to devote itself 
solely to the task of affording to the individual that culture 
which seems best calculated to secure his personal welfare. 

Section 50. The rise of academic freedom 

The question of the differentiation of the school is so closely Three phases 
bound up with that of its independence that the preceding ^emk 
section has constantly trenched on the ground of this one. freedom 
Much, however, remains to be said on the latter topic, a topic 



452 Principles of Education 

commonly discussed as the question of academic freedom. 
This conception has, as is to be expected, undergone an evolu- 
tion, which has revealed from time to time such new phases of 
scholastic independence as the special emergencies of certain 
historical periods brought into dispute. Three aspects of 
academic freedom may be noted. It has meant successively 
freedom of investigation, freedom of teaching, and freedom 
in determining the nature and scope of education, a conception 
which only in recent times is receiving clear recognition and 
formulation, 
(i) Freedom It may be thought that freedom of investigation does not 
°ation'^*'^' concern the school. For, although investigation continually 
recreates the curriculum, it is not a necessary function of the 
teacher. Nevertheless, historically, the learning that the 
school imparts has been very considerably the product of those 
The school as who are in this profession. Beginning as mere guardians of 
a place for gQ^-jg^j heredity, they have gone on to study more deeply the 
tion sources, the meaning, and the truth or justice of that which 

they have taught. From teachers they have become investi- 
gators, and no field of human action or thought has evaded 
their researches. 
The school as On the Other hand, the school has often resisted the progress 
[nvesu4- of investigation. This is especially true when it comes under 
tion. as the ^hc coutrol of Certain institutions or classes that use it to further 

judge of 11-11 

the perma- or to preserve established practices or positions. However, 
nence of gince the success of new ideas depends largely upon their being 
accepted by 'he school and thus grafted on social heredity, 
it may be said that the products of investigation must ulti- 
mately meet the approval of this institution before they really 
become current. In the progress of time, the school has come 
consciousl}' to assume both the role of investigator and that of 
the judge of investigators. The result has usually been a con- 
flict between the leaders among the learned class and certain 



The Evolution of the School 453 

dominant social orders that from characteristic conservatism 
or from fear that their privileges or power will be curtailed are 
apt to resist all changes. We find such a struggle among the 
Greeks at the time of the Sophists, among the Romans of the 
age of Cicero in resisting the inroads of Greek culture. Espe- 
cially important, however, is the conflict roused by the gradual 
advances of the school in philosophy and later in science since 
the Dark Ages. From its beginning the medieval university 
was associated with the application of reason to matters of 
faith ; that is, with philosophy as the "handmaid of theology." 
Ultimately science, which at first was cultivated rather without 
than within the school, found its home within this highest 
educational institution. The result of these advances was that 
again and again the university was compelled to fight in be- 
half of its right to pursue its own intellectual researches ir- 
respective of their bearing on the established order of church 
or state or the privileges of aristocracy or wealth. The position 
of dependence in which it has been placed has forced it to com- 
promise these contests. The usual form of the compromise Restriction 
is to permit the school to investigate freely, but to forbid gatiTn^o 
the application of its results to the practice or beliefs of the academic 
institutions or classes that are able to control it. Thus, what 
is true for philosophy is held to be false for theology. Thus, 
science was tolerated so long as it kept to purely ''academic" 
issues, but the biologist must not push the idea of evolution 
to the detriment of orthodoxy, and the economist or the soci- 
ologist must not teach doctrines at variance with the interests 
of actual or prospective donors of the institution that pays his 
salary. 

It is true that other conditions beside the restrictions of 'of the re- 
controlling agencies have conspired to render the school aca- vestlgation 
demic. The fact that science frequently requires to be fairly by those 

, . . outside the 

well advanced before any large practical appncations are school 



issues 



Application 



454 Principles of Education 

found for it is one among many positive causes — to be dis- 
cussed later — which have caused the school to limit its inter- 
est in investigation at first to purely academic matters. The 
result of this separation of the academic from the practical 
has been that the applications of the investigations of the 
school have seemed to come largely from those not engaged 
in education. Such persons were free from the negative restric- 
tions of the school, and their positive interests were usually 
in application rather than in theory. However, philosophy 
and science are both bound to tend toward practice, and with 
the rise of academic freedom the school has come to show quite 
as much interest in application as it ever has in knowledge 
for its own sake. 
The rise of Thus the school advanccd from subordination to dominant 
and thcTre- g^'oups to a freedom the practical efficacy of which was paralyzed 
movai of by limiting it to the academic. The rise of the democratic 
tion of in- State has caused this restriction to be very largely removed. 
vestigation T^g development of the conception that government should 

to the aca- . . r n i i i • 

demic aim at the largest eiiiciency for all and that this result can come 
only from a profound knowledge of the truth has led to the 
view that the agencies for investigation must be permitted the 
widest freedom, and that they must concern themselves with 
practice as well as with theory. Indeed, there has recently 
appeared a strong tendency to create special institutions of 
research in order that the investigator shall not be hampered 
even by the necessity of teaching. Since the school, on the 
one hand, has come to be no longer feared as a source of social 
or religious discontent and, on the other, has ceased to be 
disparaged as concerned with that which has little or no prac- 
tical importance, it has succeeded in obtaining, not only scho- 
lastic independence, but also that more liberal support without 
which a real independence is impossible. 

If the freedom of investigation is typified in the liberty of 



The Evolution of the School 455 

conscience, the freedom of teaching may be regarded as a (2) Freedom 
phase of freedom of speech. The two sorts of academic ?^ ^^'^j^" 
freedom usually involve each other. What one thinks he implication 
usually finds it nearly impossible not to express, and expres- q") hwcstu 
sion is always in effect a form of teaching. Hence, freedom gation, yet 
of investigation would be very difficult as well as comparatively may exist 
useless unless it carried with it the right to make known what without it 
it discovered. However, it is possible for investigation to be 
permitted and, indeed, encouraged, even though the public 
expression of its results is held in check. History reveals 
cases where what a teaching class knows and believes is quite 
distinct from what it is permitted freely to teach. In such in- 
stances we have what are known as esoteric views, taught, it 
is true, but to a limited number of the elect. A body of learn- Causes of 
ing may become esoteric for various reasons. It may be held te^^Mn 
to be incomprehensible to the average individual, and, for that 
reason, be taught only to the gifted few. Or the group solidar- 
ity and the prestige that is gained by any select body from 
the common knowledge of certain matters kept secret from the 
profane may lead its members to cherish these mysteries. This 
motive can be seen in the secret societies of primitive men, in 
the religious mysteries of the ancients, and in the fraternal 
orders of to-day. But the third motive that causes learning 
to become esoteric is probably more influential than either of 
the others. When men of active intelligence and reflective 
life come, as a result of their researches and meditations, to 
entertain beliefs that might subvert the authority or the privi- 
leges of a dominant class, they must as a matter of self-preser- 
vation keep their discoveries to themselves. Especially is 
this so when they themselves constitute a group the prestige 
of which rests, or is thought to rest, on the continued faith of 
the multitude in doctrines which they have ceased to hold. 
Even in our own age of freedom men give in their external 



456 Principles of Education 

assent to practices and views the foundations of which they 
do not regard as sound, justifying their attitude by prudence, 
coupled, perhaps, with cynical contempt of those whose intel- 
lectual inferiority permits them to be deceived. 
Value of Thus men permit themselves, or are permitted by the 

knowledge P^wcrs that be, to investigate, provided they do not spread 
as esoteric abroad what they discover in case it is subversive of power- 
fa) check- ful institutions or privileges. This divorce of the esoteric 
ing iii-con- fj-om that which is publicly taught is not without a value. In- 

sidered jo 

revoiu- deed, we may say the same of the restriction of the school to 
'^'°'^^' academic investigation, for this condition doubtless served to 
concentrate thought upon philosophy and science for their own 
sake, and thus to make possible the accumulation of a mass 
of knowledge for the reconstruction of human practice, such 
as could not have been obtained had the investigator kept 
himself closely to researches that yield results which can im- 
mediately be applied. The value of keeping knowledge as 
esoteric may be found in that in this form it is not too hastily 
or unwisely applied to the subversion of the social order. This 
use is allied to the function of superstition, which we have 
earlier indicated.^ As superstition may prevent reason from 
resulting in anarchistic individualism, so the keeping of knowl- 
edge to a few may prevent it from carrying under the very 
social agencies that have brought it forth, until society can 
reconstruct itself in accordance with the new light. Intellec- 
tual revolutions affect the social order at first destructively. 
The process of reconstruction is not to be accomplished by 
mere schemes sprung fully matured from the minds of men of 
genius. Rather, they must be a product of much reflection 
and long experiment. Social stability during this period of 
experimentation may best be safeguarded, as Des Cartes sug- 
gested,^ by clinging to the old, even though it be somewhat 

^ Compare § 14. ^ Discoiirs de la Methode, Part II. 



The Evolution of the School 457 

discredited, until we are fairly certain of the effects of the new. 
Herein lies the value of a conservatism in expressing new 
ideas that seems to smack of hypocrisy. 

Again, not only does the intellect discover the shortcom- (J) prevent- 
ings of traditional theory and practice long before it is ready p^amiysis 
to replace these by anything that will work, but the tendency of action 
of investigation is also dangerous from the mere fact that it 
raises doubt and paralyzes will. Human conduct is both in 
the individuals and states often determined by beliefs that 
cannot, at the time at least, be established by scientific meth- 
ods. Hence these beliefs can be challenged by contradictory 
opinions, and so long as the intellect preserves its pause of 
reflection no solution is possible. The demands of life require 
that this Gordian Knot of indecision be cut by will. There 
are ages when intellectual analysis and dubiety must be re- 
placed by belief that will not doubt, and by a volition that 
cares more for the accompHshment of results than for the 
soundness of its premises. Such an attitude requires that the 
unsettling results of investigation be kept in the background. 
In the long run, the practice that is thus permitted free play 
may result in that very experience by which it is possible to 
resolve doubts and arrive at conclusive judgments. Thus the Consequent 
abandonment of the attempt to establish practice on con- ofdedfive" 
vincing reason involves a resort to the arbitrament of the experience 
event, through which alone the experience necessary to satis- 
factory intellectual decision can be obtained. 

But while the separation of what is esoteric from that which The growth 
is exoteric in teaching may be an inevitable and a desirable \.yQi ^' 
phase in the evolution of academic freedom, it tends to give judgment 
way before the forces that make for enlightenment. Society ing the 
ultimately arrives at a degree of self-consciousness concerning 
its mechanism and of self-control in regard to its actions 
which permits the truth to be known about as rapidly as it is 



need of the 
esoteric 



45 S Principles of Education 

discovered. The age of revolution is replaced by one of 
more steady progress. Institutions are no longer subject to 
sudden reconstruction, to be followed by long periods of 
comparative stagnation, but they become flexible. To be 
sure, it is not likely that progress will ever be absolutely con- 
tinuous in rate. Nevertheless, spasmodic growth may be 
expected to be less and less in evidence. Under these condi- 
tions the investigations and teachings of the school may be 
expected to produce constant changes, but they will be less 
likely to result in violent ones. 
Freedom of The full freedom on the part of the school to find out the 
conduch^r ^^uth, if it cau, and to teach it when it is known, reacts favor- 
to judg- ably upon the sobriety of judgment of this institution. The 
limitation of academic freedom historically may often be 
justified from the tendency on the part of the investigators 
of the school to arrive at conclusions without adequate data. 
Against the inferences of a rationality too often divorced from 
fact society had frequently need to defend itself. The devel- 
opment of greater perfection of scientific method and of the 
critical power to distinguish between the proved and the hy- 
pothetical are partly an occasion for permitting greater aca- 
demic freedom, and partly a result of the increased sense of 
responsibility which experience in such freedom has produced. 
(3) Freedom The third phase of academic freedom is freedom in deter- 
the'^wor'k mining the nature and scope of education. It means that the 
of the school is at liberty to prescribe to its pupils what they shall 
study and the method of their work. In one sense such power 
is involved in the extension of freedom to investigate and to 
teach. Investigation creates and reforms the curriculum, and 
teaching tends to follow as it directs. On the other hand, aca- 
demic freedom in these respects has often, as we have seen, 
been purchased at the cost of a limitation of the nature and 
scope of the work of the school. Freedom to investigate and 



The Evolution of the School 459 

to teach what one finds to be true was permitted, but all sub- 
jects which the dominant classes in the community wished 
to preserve inviolate were excluded from the school curriculum. 
As a matter of fact, the attainment of liberty of thought and laissezfi 



aire 



of conscience, of speech and of the press, which the eighteenth ["on^astn 
century conceived as fundamental among the rights of men, voiving a 
was coupled with a notion of laissez faire in government, which school ^° 
left the school in dependence upon private agencies, and so 
a mere expression of family ambitions or denominational views. 
Thus we have the "freedom of teaching" of the France of the 
Revolution and of the United States during much of its his- 
tory. The state simply lets education alone. Such an ar- 
rangement theorists like Herbert Spencer conceive to be the 
one most conducive to the welfare of the individual and the 
progress of society. Consequently, they oppose any attempt 
on the part of the state to assume control of the school. 

"For what is meant by saying that a government ought Spencer on 
to educate the people ? Why should they be educated ? What the evils of 
is the education for ? Clearly to fit them for social fife ; to JJof 0^^^" 
make good citizens. And who is to say what are good citizens ? schools 
The Government. There is no other judge. Hence the propo- 
sition is convertible into this — a Government ought to mold 
children into good citizens, using its own discretion in settling 
what a good citizen is and how the child may be molded into 
one. It must first form for itself a conception of a pattern 
citizen ; and having done this, must elaborate a system of 
discipHne which seems best calculated to produce citizens after 
that pattern. This system it is bound to enforce to the utter- 
most. For if it does otherwise, it allows men to become differ- 
ent from , what in its judgment they should become, and 
therefore fails in that duty it is charged to fulfill. Being thus 
fortified in carrying out such plans as it thinks best, every 
Government ought to do what the despotic Governments 
of the Continent and of China do. The regulation under 
which, in France, private schools cannot be established with- 



460 Principles of Education 

out a license from the minister and can be shut up by a simple 
ministerial order is a step in the right direction, but does not 
go far enough, seeing that the state cannot permit its mission 
to be undertaken by others, without endangering the due per- 
formance of it. The forbidding of all private schools what- 
ever, as until recently in Prussia, is nearer the mark." ^ 

Laissez faire Among the most important consequences of state education, 
rnded'as ^ccordiug to Mr. Spencer, is that " the teaching organism itself, 
the basis of and the Government which directs it, will inevitably lean to 
and^juTr^ things as they are, and to give them control over the national 
education mind is to give them the means of repressing aspirations after 
things as they should be." 

According to this view, — the laissez J aire theory of educa- 
tion, — the school will be freest to investigate, to teach, and 
so to progress in case it is left to private agencies which are 
protected in their freedom of teaching. A national system 
is supposed to mean paternalism, the suppression of variation, 
and so of progress, in a word, absolutism with all its attendant 
evils. What we need is freedom on the part of the individual 
to study what he chooses. Let the laws of demand and supply 
operate as freely as human contrivances can permit. The 
school, made dependent on the demands of its patrons, will 
supply whatever • their ambitions and intelligence require. 
Thus, it is assumed, each will get the kind and the amount 
of education that he deserves. We will have justice in giving 
to each what he earns and values, freedom in forcing upon 
none what they do not want, and progress in providing the 
greatest freedom for the development of individual differences 
and for their struggle for existence. 
Likelihood of The bcHever in laissez faire holds that freedom of teaching 
site eSects involves uo interference on the part of the state in the work of 
education. But such an arrangement leaves it a mere servile 

^ Spencer, Social Statics: Essay on National Education. 



The Evolution of the School 



461 



flunky upon the tastes and prejudices of its patrons. It 
must give that which will insure it pupils. Under such con- 
ditions there is no freedom to teach, for if the school does not 
teach what the parents want, — that is, if it does not give up 
its freedom, — it cannot teach at all, since it will have no 
patronage. Hence, genuine academic freedom requires that 
the state should protect the school in determining the con- 
tent and method of education. Without this privilege and 
responsibility academic freedom is left ineffectual. 

The two issues, that of control of education by the school 
and that of control and support of the school by the state, 
have gone hand in hand. If it be admitted that there should 
be complete academic freedom, one must at the same time 
grant that the school can be placed in this position only by the 
generous support and protection of a democratic state. His- 
torically it is true that national education has been both con- 
servative and calculated to favor the welfare of the nation or 
that of a dominant class rather than that of the individual. 
However, this result sprang from the fact that the state has 
been under the control of classes or of conservatives. When 
once this institution has become imbued with the spirit of 
progress, there is no reason why it should not favor intel- 
lectual investigation and reform through education. More- 
over, the democratic state is pledged to secure, so far as 
possible, equality of opportunity. Hence, it cannot favor edu- 
cation in the interests of classes. The event has proved that 
national education tends toward both the most exact justice 
to the child and the largest efficiency in the school. 

But while it may be agreed that national education means 
the greatest measure of academic freedom for the school, 
many may question the wisdom of permitting such power to 
come into the hands of the teaching class. It remains to 
show that the greatest efficiency in education springs from giv- 



State control 
the pre- 
requisite of 
complete 
academic 
freedom 



Academic 
freedom a 
condition 
of expert 
control 



462 Principles of Ediuation 

ing to the school the power to determine what and how it 
shall teach. There are two fundamental reasons for this 
complete academic freedom. These are the growth of edu- 
cation into a profession involving special knowledge and skill, 
and the fact that education deals with individuals who are in- 
capable, without direction, of knowing or getting what they 
should have. The growth of the systematic study of education 
and of the professional spirit among schoolmasters has led 
them to demand and to receive more and more that influence 
in the direction of their special work which is due to the ex- 
pert. This movement has been furthered by the rise of uni- 
versal education and of the ideal of education for efficiency. 
Universal education has intensified the difficulties of school 
method and created a vast number of problems of supervision 
and administration. The attempt to secure efficiency as the 
result of teaching has involved problems of adapting the 
course of study to life that were not reahzed when the "piety, 
knowledge, and art of expression" that the school has been 
wont to cultivate were felt to be worth while for their own 
sake. Thus both the rise of expert knowledge and the diffi- 
culty of modern utilitarian education have conspired to raise 
education into a profession and to secure for it practical con- 
trol over its work. 
Expert con- The development of education into a special science in the 
foundation ^auds of cxpcrts must of necessity react upon its progressive- 
of progress ness. In the first place, it is relieved from dependence upon 
tion ^^^' the prejudices of its patrons, which are of necessity largely 
uncritical. These lay opinions are apt to be conservative. 
Men look back fondly upon the education that they received, 
or thought they received, and sorrowfully contrast it with 
the "fads" and the superficiaHty of to-day. On the other 
hand, when the lay mind does feel the need of progress, it is apt 
to ride its hobbies without that careful criticism which can 



The Evolution of the School 



463 



come adequately only from patient study and investigation. 
The special science of education aims to separate what is known 
from what is problematical, to accumulate data, to conduct edu- 
cational experimentation, and so to organize the profession 
that what is once established need not be forgotten for lack of 
any systematic method of making it known. Thus academic 
freedom means professional unity, and that systematic or- 
ganization of educational research which replaces mere chance 
progress by conscious effort under the control of scientific 
method. 

The school should control its work, not only that it may 
make this scientific and progressive, but also because in a pe- 
culiar sense it deals with those who are in need of direction. 
To leave education in the hands of private agencies means to 
make the education of children dependent upon the resources 
and the standards of parents. Now, while parental ambi- 
tion is one of the noblest of emotions and deserves to be en- 
couraged, to leave the child dependent upon it and its resources 
means inequality and injustice to many. A democratic so- 
ciety must believe that the child of poverty and degradation 
is, as a child, quite as deserving of educational opportunity as 
is the scion of wealth and nobility of life. To be sure, no 
scheme except one which, like that of Plato, abolishes the 
family can destroy its influence on education. Yet the more 
glaring inequalities that spring from the relegation of this 
function entirely to the family can be remedied by establish- 
ing a school equipped with resources and power such as make 
it genuinely free in its supervision of the nature and scope of 
the training of the young. 

Thus the modern state, which holds itself responsible to do 
its best for the welfare of its citizens, has come to devote itself 
especially to the task of equalizing educational opportunities 
through a national school. The policy of laissez jaire has 



Academic 
freedom 
necessary 
to a just 
distribu- 
tion of edu- 
cation 



The inde- 
pendent 
national 
school as a 
source of 
individual 
freedom 



464 



Principles of Education 



Endowed 
private 
schools 
may be 
academi- 
cally free 



been replaced by that of providing, in conformity with the j 
ideal of Horace Mann, a public school so good that no parent 
would prefer a private one on account of the greater merit : 
of its instruction, and of so far interfering with the liberty 
of the individual as to compel the attendance of the children, 
to limit their right to labor, and to provide them, where neces- 
sary, with the food, the clothing, and the other resources 
that are required to make the work of the school effective. 
This policy, so far from being an agency of tyranny, is the 
source of the largest freedom to the individual. A system 
of education resting on charity and private patronage is bound 
to reflect the point of view of those families of wealth and 
station who constitute its main support. The social control 
of such an institution is inevitably thrown upon the side of 
the interests that it especially represents. 

The national school is not of necessity supported wholly by 
public funds nor controlled entirely by state officers. Large 
private endowments, when they are not accompanied by ex- 
press or implied conditions that limit academic freedom, do 
not hamper but rather aid the national school. Moreover, 
the control of such endowments by self-perpetuating boards 
of trustees is not inconsistent with a responsiveness to public 
opinion. In these educational agencies, therefore, we may and 
do have merely parts of a national system. Indeed, the Presi- 
dent^ of one great endowed American University has main- 
tained that in effect such an institution is as genuine a part 
of the state system as is the so-called State University. While 
the truth of this view may be granted, it is also clear that 
without the support and protection of the democratic state the 
school could not have been able adequately and freely to care 
for the task of education from the elementary school to the uni- 
versity. Academic freedom in the highest sense has meant 
^ President Butler. 



The Evolution of the School 465 

that the state should assume the responsibiHty for the exist- 
ence of a school that could control education effectively, and 
without any other motive than the desire to foster impartially 
the welfare of children. 

The control by the school over the nature and scope of Resumption 
its work has enabled it gradually to reassume the teaching of siooUf 
many subjects that had been shut out of its curriculum as a theteach- 
condition of its independence. Thus religion and poHtics are terdicted 
gradually making their way into the researches and the instruc- subjects 
tion of universities. Doubtless, such subjects will eventually 
reach the elementary school. When education ceases to con- 
fuse opinion with scientific certainty and comes to teach facts 
apart from hypotheses, its assistance on matters of vital prac- 
tical import will not only be permitted but desired and, indeed, 
expected. 

Academic freedom in its completest sense may be said to implications 
imply that the school should possess the following powers : academic'^ 
(i) control of the curriculum and of methods of teaching; freedom: 
(2) control of the appointment of teachers ; (3) compulsory 
education ; (4) control of school finances ; (5) adequate school 
appropriations. It will be seen that these powers make the 
school dominant in all educational matters, as, indeed, it should 
be. However, there are perils in such authority, and it is not 
difficult to see what they are. Before discussing them and 
the limitations of power that are necessary to escape them, it 
may be well to consider a little more specifically the meaning 
and justification of each implication. 

The control over the curriculum and the methods of teaching (i) control 
is the only condition under which the work of education can curriculum 
become an expert profession, alive to its responsibilities and andmeth- 
full of the spirit of progress. As well ask a physician to con- teaching; 
duct and be responsible for a case in which his advice is freely 
disregarded, as to ask the school to teach our children and 



466 



Principles of Education 



(2) control 
over who 
shall be 
permitted 
to teach ; 



(3) compul- 
sory educa- 
tion; 



(4) control 
of the dis- 
position of 
school 
money ; 



(s) adequate 
financial 
support 



then to prescribe the details of what it should do. Indeed, 
there is more need of independence for the school than for 
the physician, since education concerns the interests of an 
immature child and seeks freedom from ignorant parental 
meddling with its endeavors to serve these, whereas the phy- 
sician is dealing usually with a responsible adult, and wishes 
only to enforce a regimen the value of which can ordinarily 
be quickly realized by the patient himself. 

The determination of who shall be teachers must in large 
measure rest with the teaching profession. If this authority 
is not so placed, there is no assurance that the best ideals and 
practices of the profession will be illustrated in those who are 
called upon to teach. There is, indeed, no certainty that the 
judgment of teachers about teachers is always better than 
that of those outside the profession. But, at any rate, the 
selection of teachers by superintendents who are responsible 
for the results that they attain tends to free this matter from 
all sorts of influences other than those which are professional, — 
influences which tend to degrade the intellectual as well as 
the moral standard of the profession. 

Again, compulsory education has come to be recognized as 
indispensable in order that irresponsible or destitute parents, 
or the ignorance of childhood, may not, so far as this can be 
prevented, interfere with the beneficence of the school in pro- 
viding the essentials of a standard education. 

Finally, in reference to school finances, it is evident that in 
so far as these are applied to matters purely educational in 
character, the expert in education should be regarded as the 
best judge of their disposal. The power of the purse is in 
many ways the determining influence, not only in the matter 
of the extent of education, but also in that of its character. 
In order that its extent may not be improperly limited, there 
should be adequate school appropriations, and the funds 



TJie Evohition of the School 467 

thus available should be disposed of under the guidance of 
competent educational advice. 

To recapitulate, academic freedom has assumed three forms, Summary 
each of which involves special issues. As the teaching class 
becomes more and more a group of experts in learning, they 
naturally drift into investigation. Their researches touch 
upon vital questions of social control and incite the hostihty 
of those whose status in society is threatened. In such a 
pass, freedom of investigation may be retained at the price of 
restriction to such questions as are "safe" or "academic." 
But investigation tends to trench on the forbidden. In that 
event, it often saves a struggle by failing to publish its results. 
The school has frequently protected itself from loss of prestige 
or the enmity of privileged classes by keeping as esoteric what 
it has discovered. Thus it gains a wider freedom of investiga- 
tion at the expense of a limitation of freedom of teaching. 
The rise of modern democracy meant first the laissez /aire the- 
ory of government. According to this conception, the school 
gained theoretical freedom of teaching, but since it was left 
dependent on private patronage, this freedom was unable to 
become effectual in any large way. The further evolution of 
democracy has led to the view that government should interest 
itself positively in providing for the welfare of its citizens. 
This notion has involved especially the endeavor to provide 
equality of educational opportunity for children. In carry- 
ing out this view the state seems in the act of creating a school 
with complete academic freedom, — that is, recognized au- 
thority over the curriculum and methods of teaching, power 
to determine who shall teach, power to compel attendance and 
to dispose of school finances, and adequate support for its 
great work. 



468 



Principles of Education 



Academic 
freedom as 
a source of 
irresponsi- 
bility in 
education 



Consequent 
isolation, 
loss of vi- 
tality, and 
selfishness 
in the 
school 



Section 51. Interdependence of the school and society 

It is evident that the powers which academic freedom has 
been shown to imply need Hmitation in order not to involve a 
preposterous independence on the part of the school. The 
school should be independent of the rest of society just in so far 
as that independence is necessary in order to insure its most 
effective service to the individual. On the other hand, a degree 
of dependence should exist in order that the school may be 
kept to this service. In a general way, society has always 
been alert to this situation. Academic freedom has many ad- 
vances to make before it is likely to place the school in an 
irresponsible position, and, doubtless, the checks that are 
wont to surround each new addition to its power and liberty 
will adequately protect the public against educational tyr- 
any. 

The serious dangers that the rise of academic freedom in- 
volves fall under three headings. The school may become 
isolated from practical life and unresponsive to its demands. 
It may become too mechanical in its organization and work, 
thus ceasing to display vital growth. Finally, it may come 
to be run in the interest of the teachers, rather than in that 
of the children. 

These phases of degeneracy because of power are, in a 
sense, distinct from each other. The school may isolate itself 
without becoming mechanical or even selfish. Mechanism 
may impair the progressiveness of institutions that aim for 
the sake of service to keep in close touch with the utilities of 
life. Lastly, self-interest may be a dominant motive in schools 
that study well the times in order to conform to popular no- 
tions or powerful interests, rather than to discover the best 
method of serving the welfare of the young. On the other 
hand, these three evils all tend to involve each other, and a 



The Evolution of the School 



469 



school developing independence on account of resources and a 
prestige that makes it a great power in social control may 
easily lose its touch with the interests it should serve, and 
become incrusted by conservatism and selfishness. 

In order to insure the prevention of this result, it is neces- 
sary, of course, to limit the independence of the school. The 
school and the community must be made interdependent, 
and the principle of this relation is to be found in a division of 
power. Practice in this matter seems to be drifting toward an 
arrangement which leaves to those in the profession of teaching 
the task of planning all specific measures that relate to the 
organization, the program, and the teaching of the school, and 
assigns to authorities outside the profession a power of vetoing 
such plans or of choosing among submitted alternatives, 
together with some responsibility for criticism or suggestion 
in regard to existing or proposed conditions. Such an ar- 
rangement should, undoubtedly, apply literally to the control 
of the curriculum and methods of teaching. Here it is quite 
certain that, while the community as a whole, and especially 
such trustees as are appointed to exercise oversight over the 
work of the school, should be empowered to veto any pro- 
posed plan, and should feel it their duty to watch, criticise, and 
advise the school, still the definite initiation and the detailed 
formulation of plans should be intrusted to those whose busi- 
ness it is to carry these out if they be adopted. 

When we come to the appointment of teachers, the applica- 
tion of our principle may be seen in the generally prevailing 
requirement that they should be certificated or licensed on 
the basis of qualifications that are tested by those in the pro- 
fession. Such an arrangement still leaves great liberty of 
choice to the controlling boards composed of laymen. How- 
ever, the tendency is rapidly growing to intrust to super- 
intendents, principals, or presidents the power of nominating 



Proper divi- 
sion of 
authority 
between 
educators 
and boards 
of control 



Application 
of this 
principle 
(i) to the 
internal 
work of 
the school : 



(2) to the 
appoint- 
ment of 
teachers 



47© Principles of Educatioii 

teachers and of assigning them to their specific work, thus 
leaving to the lay board, so far as subordinate appointments are 
concerned, the sole duty of approval or rejection of the nomi- 
Reversai of nations made. In addition, however, they usually possess the 
1^^ btin" power of selecting the leading administrative officers. This 
executive powcr is in tum limited in various ways. First, it is prac- 
tically necessary to have the approval of excellent professional 
judgment in selecting these officers. To-day a system of edu- 
cational credentials has grown up, which practically constrains, 
not only lay boards, but also administrative school officials, 
to conform in the making of appointments to the verdict of at 
least a respectable body of opinion among the teachers them- 
selves. Second, the teachers in some schools exercise certain 
direct powers in reference to the appointment of their chief 
executives. In the German University, for example, the 
rector, or in case the head of the principality possesses that 
official title, the acting rector or prorector, is really selected 
by the members of the faculty, the state authorities possessing 
the right only of refusing to confirm this appointment. It 
must be noted that the professors are not selected by the rec- 
tor, but by the government, usually, however, on the advice of 
the faculty or of its representatives. 
Possible It is possible that a governing head having the general re- 

Sving the sponsibility and authority of the American president, principal, 
teachers a qj- superintendent is, on the whole, most favorable to a compre- 
suchap- hensive, impartial, and progressive policy in the school. On 
pointments ^^ other hand, it seems equally certain that such an officer 
should be, in some measure, subject to the judgment of the 
teachers whom he commands. Two methods of bringing 
about this result are available. Either these officers may be 
in the beginning nominated by the teachers, or they may be 
subject to the approval of those whom they are to direct. In 
the former case, the teachers may nominate one or a number of 



The Evolution of the School 471 

candidates, and the governing board exercise in the one case 
a confirming, in the other, a selecting, power. The first ar- 
rangement would preserve the principle hitherto laid down in 
regard to the division of functions between professionals and 
laymen. It would, doubtless, seem to most like putting the 
school too much in the hands of the teachers. Moreover, it is 
possible that the plan would lead to improper intrigues among 
them. On the other hand, it should not be forgotten that 
where lay boards have entire control of this matter intrigues 
and unprofessional influences have all too frequently deter- 
mined the choice of school officers. But whatever may be 
said of the ultimate desirability of having the teachers nominate 
their executive heads, it would seem that the time is ripe for 
at least a limited application of the other plan by which the 
appointment of administrative officers through lay boards 
would require the confirmation of the teachers in the school 
they are to conduct. It is likely also that a considerable 
majority of these teachers should be able to remove their 
executive officers. 

It may seem absurd to think of such a plan as applying to Difficulty in 
our elementary schools. And it must be confessed that the suc'/pkns 
youth and immaturity of many of the teachers in these insti- toeiement- 
tutions, coupled with the fact that they are to such an over- 
whelming extent women, a large number of whom are soon 
removed from the profession by marriage, makes the problem 
here especially difficult. It is safe to say that with the cur- 
rent belief in the need of discipline among the rank and file, 
no body of teachers will be intrusted with the power of con- 
firming the appointment of educational executives unless their 
training and quahty are clearly such as to make this provi- 
sion an advantage to the school. Such would seem to be the 
case with colleges and universities and with many secondary 
schools. 



472 



Principles of Education 



Be facto in- 
fluence of 
teachers in 
the ap- 
pointment 
of execu- 
tives 



The issue in 
compul- 
sory edu- 
cation 



Objections to 
compelling 
attendance 



Meanwhile, it is clear that, although the teachers are not 
ofl&cially intrusted with the power of confirming the appoint- 
ments of their chiefs, or of removing them when objectionable, 
nevertheless, they do in practice exercise this function in 
exactly that degree to which they give expression to opinions 
which are held by the community to be of weight. No board 
of trustees would venture to appoint or to retain an executive 
officer against the judgment of a body of teachers whose ver- 
dict was regarded as mature and impartial. The only ad- 
vantage that the official power of confirmation or removal 
would have would arise from the fact that it would tend to 
disabuse both the teachers and the community of the notion 
that such a matter is not the concern of any but the govern- 
ing boards. This attitude reduces the school to a business in 
which the teachers are merely employees. There can be no 
question that this situation is bad for teachers, for community, 
and for school. The school is not this sort of a business. It 
is a cooperative enterprise the sole aim of which is the welfare 
of humanity through education. In such an enterprise the 
principles of democracy, on the one hand, and of the control of 
expert opinion, on the other, are paramount. 

When we come to compulsory education, the issue is not be- 
tween teachers on the one hand and boards of trustees on the 
other, but rather between the school and the individual, whether 
parent or child. The necessity of compelling the child to 
attend school for a certain length of time in order to avoid the 
evil consequences of forces over which he has no control has 
already been emphasized. Parental poverty or neglect or 
the ignorance of both parent and child produces results for 
which the child should not have to suffer. Hence the school 
should endeavor to prevent by force these consequences. 

The chief objections to compulsory education are that it is 
an unwarrantable interference with the liberty of the individual, 



The Evolution of the School 473 

and that only that education which is freely sought is of any 
value. The first objection is, of course, answered by the con- 
sideration that compulsory education interferes only with the 
parent's right to abuse the child, or with the child's right to 
abuse himself before he has arrived at years of discretion. 
The second objection is more important, and upon it can be 
based the principle that should govern the limits of compulsory 
education. 

The school has, in general, tried to bring about universal Attendance 
education by two methods, by making attendance compulsory amactlon^' 
and by rendering its work attractive. The latter is the one and by 
more generally resorted to in the United States, where com- ^'^'^ 
pulsory attendance laws are usually poorly enforced. Euro- 
pean states have not hesitated to resort to effective compul- 
sion, and it may be said that in the present condition of society 
this course is desirable. The school cannot be made attrac- 
tive enough to entice some children without at the same time 
losing much of its educational viriHty. Moreover, the en- Necessity of 
deavor to do all by attractiveness may lead to "soft pedagogy," compulsion 
to education that makes the child passive and dependent 
rather than active and efl&cient. On the other hand, no school 
work can be regarded as very seriously worth while unless it 
comes to be valued by the recipient. The justification of com- 
pulsion lies in the fact that it may and frequently does lead to 
appreciation. Families that resist education may, under the 
pressure of a sense of its inevitability, reconcile themselves to 
it, and come to feel its worth. The state can impress upon its 
people the desirability of education most quickly and effectively 
by compelling them to try it. There can be no question that 
compulsory education tends to destroy its own necessity, 
and that its practice on any large scale is merely a policy for 
a transition. 

Thus we are led to the principle that should determine the 



474 



Principles of Education 



The limits 
of effective 
education 
by com- 
pulsion 



Extension of 
the age 
limit of 
compul- 
sory edu- 
cation 



Desirability 
of making 
it variable 



limits of compulsory education. Such coercion should cease 
when appreciation of education may be expected to begin, if 
it is to begin at all. What the child is forced to get is of Uttle 
value unless it leads to a desire to get more ; and it is in this 
culture that is freely sought that all large educational benefit 
is to be found. Hence, the school, in relying upon the assist- 
ance of compulsion, must not lose sight of the fact that this 
is a merely temporary measure, and that attraction is, after 
all, the only ultimately effective educational motive. When 
the child has reached an age at which it can fairly accurately 
be said that both he and the school know whether they should 
have anything more to do with each other, compulsory educa- 
tion should cease. 

The determination of this age is, of course, a matter of practi- 
cal experience, but it may be noted that as the curriculum 
expands to include vocational training, and especially as 
secondary education comes to be devoted more systematically 
and resourcefully to the task of helping the student to find 
himself,^ the period of compulsory education may well be 
extended. Such is, indeed, the tendency ; for example, the 
compulsory attendance on continuation schools in Germany, 
and the extending of the age of compulsion beyond fourteen 
in some American states. A pupil may, before he has by any 
means exploited the resources of the school, ignorantly decide 
that this institution has nothing for him. As the educational 
resources expand to meet all or nearly all types of ability, the 
school has a right to insist that at least an attempt shall be made 
by the pupil to discover and to utilize what is prepared for 
him. Coercion may frequently be valuable as an aid to ade- 
quate experimentation in various lines of work. 

Finally, it is probable that the length of time during which 
attendance should be compulsory is not the same for all chil- 

^ On the function of secondary education, compare § 53. 



The Evolution of the School 



475 



dren. To keep a boy in school after it is certain that he can 
receive no benefit from it is an absurd tyranny. On the other 
hand, it is evident that many children want to leave school 
long before they have received from it the proper cultivation 
of their talents. It should be within the power of the educa- 
tional authorities to release some from the obligation of attend- 
ance with which others are forced to comply. The age limit 
of coercion should, therefore, like the modern criminal sentence, 
become somewhat indeterminate ; or, to push the parallel 
further, be stated as a maximum capable of being reduced at 
the discretion of the school authorities. 

In regard to the distribution of school finances, we find that 
our general principle appHes fairly completely. The fixing 
of the scale of salaries and of the relative amounts that should 
be devoted to this or that educational purpose are being left 
more and more to the executive officers of the school, the boards 
of trustees exercising merely the functions of approval or 
rejection. So, too, the school officers are expected to indicate 
what they regard as adequate school appropriations, trusting 
to the wise economy of the taxing authorities to see that their 
estimates are properly cut down. 

It is evident that academic freedom, when it is interpreted 
as the freedom of interdependence, is, so far from being a source 
of danger, the true panacea for the perils that are supposed 
to be its result. The supremacy of expert opinion, safe- 
guarded by the need of obtaining for it the approval of the 
representatives of society, means, not the isolation of the 
school, but mutual respect and support between it and the 
community. The attention of the teachers is being continually 
centered upon the needs of the community, which they must 
strive to meet in order to win the support of their governing 
boards. On the other hand, the boards, Hmited in their powers 
to a consideration of the plans of educational experts, will 



Application 
of the prin- 
ciple of 
division of 
power to 
control of 
school 
finances 



The freedom 
of inter- 
depend- 
ence as 
the basis of 
effective 
education 



476 



Principles of Education 



Function of 
the school 
in reUgion 
and morals 
primarily 
that of 
clarifying 
intelligence 



1 



become more keenly aware that education is a science deserv 
ing of professional study, and yielding far greater results if 
submitted to trained intelligence than if held to the traditions 
and the common sense of those who devote to it only incidental 
attention. Under such conditions the school will be not only 
differentiated and free, but it will be suffered to absorb more 
and more under its control those educational functions that 
have been withheld from it by church or family or state. There 
can be little doubt that much more religious culture may profit- 
ably be given in the school than is the case at present. The 
time will undoubtedly come when all denominations will wel- 
come the assistance of the secular school in fostering both reli- 
gious intelligence and religious attitudes. So, too, the family, 
the principal source of moral culture, will be grateful for a more 
serious attempt on the part of the school to arouse in the 
child a sense of the various duties of life ; and the state will 
find the civic inteUigence and responsibility of its citizens 
developed and strengthened by a more careful study in the 
school of the mechanism and issues of politics and govern- 
ment. 

In this larger sphere the school must, of course, act in the 
spirit of science and reason, uttering dogmatically only what 
has been conclusively proved, and setting forth alternative 
views with the greatest freedom. Nor can it hope to take 
the place either of church or family in connection either with 
the religious or with the moral life. Its essential function is 
the clarification of intelligence, whereas the church and the 
family are centers for carrying out in a practical way religious 
and moral attitudes. But it is not to be supposed that this 
fact excludes the school from taking account of the significance 
of religious faith or of self-sacrifice. If these are permanent 
elements in human culture, they must be capable of support 
from a frank and incisive examination of facts and reasons. 



The Evolution of the School 477 

Indeed, so far is it from being true that rationalism is the 
parent of irreligion and individual selfishness, that only through 
rationalism can they hope to save themselves. It is true that 
reason has been a dangerous enemy of faith that strives to 
maintain itself at the expense of reason, just as it has of social 
rights and duties that serve only to sustain the privileges of a 
class. But if, in its iconoclasm, reason has seemed to go to 
the extreme of atheism and anarchy, it is no less true that the 
remedy for the dangers of rationalism is more rationalism. 
In any event, the consequences of rationalism are a burden 
that mankind will have to bear, and any institution that re- 
serves its fundamental principles from the criticism of the 
school because of its fear of the logical attitudes assumed 
by that institution will, by such a policy, ultimately destroy 
its prestige and influence. 



CHAPTER XVI 

THE FUNCTION OF THE SCHOOL 

Section 52. The examination conception of education 

The function The school may be defined as the institution through which 
°^}-^^\ a community consciously endeavors to transmit to the young 

school as -' -' ^ o 

selection their social heredity. It began with the humble function of 

dividuais handing on literacy and uncritical tradition, but it constantly 

according grew in influence, extent of culture, and independence until it 

fitness, (2) has come, as we have seen, practically to control the educative 

of the mat- function. In the course of that evolution it has performed 

terof social ^ ^ ^ ^ -^ _ 

heredity two kinds of scrvicc. The first is that of selecting or testing 
individuals according to the staridards of society ; the second 
is that of selecting from among the available materials for edu- 
cation that which is regarded as most adapted to the training 
of all or of each. The function of selecting individuals for 
society gives rise to the examination conception of education. 
The individual is tested, it may be once, or, as is more common, 
at various stages, or, perhaps, continuously during childhood 
in order to ascertain his fitness for society in general, or for 
ofiicial position, or to determine his relative rank or reputation, 
or his special aptitude for this or that pursuit. Society finds 
in conscious education an agency for social control, and the 
first task of control is that of selecting, grading, and assigning 
to each the status that most conserves the interests of society 
as a whole, or of the governing classes. The second function, 
that of determining the nature of the training of each, is, 
indeed, not separated from the function of examination, but is, 

478 



The Function of the School 



479 



like the 
environ- 
ment in be- 
ing not 
creative 
but selec- 
tive of 
power 



nevertheless, distinct from it, and should be dealt with apart. 
It is of small importance so long as the materials of culture are 
meager, but becomes of vital significance when these materials 
accumulate so that a struggle for existence arises among them. 

It may be objected that the view that the function of the The school 
school is selective places the emphasis on aspects that are 
merely negative or incidental, and neglects the fundamental 
function, which some may hold to be a positive one, and to 
consist either in actually transmitting to the young the social 
heredity that they need, or in cultivating to a state of efficiency 
their powers. In reply, it may be said that these supposedly 
positive effects of education are in reality negative or selective 
in character. Throughout the preceding discussions it has 
been constantly maintained that all positive growth comes 
from within. The powers of the individual emerge from po- 
tentialities the mystery of which cannot in the least be traced 
to the environmental conditions that determine their survival. 
The education of the individual, so far as this is to be regarded 
as a process of external determination of his development, is 
merely selective. This power is suffered to expand, that one 
is eliminated. The school merely constitutes an environment 
favoring the growth of certain tendencies and the suppression 
of others. This selective function is, indeed, of great impor- 
tance. We have seen that it everywhere constitutes the func- 
tion of the environment. When assumed by the individual, 
it takes the form of feeling and judgment. It characterizes 
the mode of operation of such educative processes as imitation 
and the use of language. Through these forms it so enormously 
facilitates the progress of the individual toward efficiency that 
it is not surprising that they should seem like positive sources 
of growth, rather than merely as permissive or directive 
agencies. Nevertheless, they are such, and the school, as the 
institution that constitutes the typical expression of the edu- 



480 Principles of Education 

cative function, is fundamentally an instrumentality by which 
the function of selection in individual development may, so 
far as it is exercised by society, be specialized and controlled. 
The function of selecting or grading the young is a very old 
one in the history of social control. So long as society was weak 
and the conditions of individual life insecure, parental and 
social fosterage were capable of saving only those children who 
possessed superiority of physical and mental endowment. 
Increase in social efficiency, as has been seen, tends to eliminate 
1 the influence of natural selection. The weak, the inefficient 
are preserved, owing to the strength of the social bond. On 
the other hand, such consequences tend to diminish the total 
efficiency of society, with the result that the community that 
is too kind to its own finds itself at a disadvantage in the 
Rise of social struggle for existence with sterner communities. In order 
chiMrTn ° ^^^ ^ Community may preserve its efficiency, while at the same 
Infanticide time its moral code continues to antagonize that great though 
terrible ally of organic health, natural selection, new counter- 
agencies must be invented. A prominent one is infanticide, 
quite commonly practiced among primitive men or in early 
civilizations. Through this means society is rid of superfluous 
young. The burden of the support of any save those that are 
necessary to ensure the continuance of the tribe is removed. 
Perhaps the females may be the ones selected for destruction, 
the group relying on stealing its wives from some other race, 
— a method made practicable because of its greater efficiency 
in war. Such conditions are held to give rise to exogamy.^ 
In some cases the community may keep alive just enough wo- 
men to ensure the continuance of the stock. This practice 
is, doubtless, widespread, and probably finds at least partial 
exemplification in China. Where male as well as female 
infanticide prevails, there may be a careful selection for sur- 
^ Compare M'Lennan, Primitive Marriage. 



The Function of the School 481 

vival of those physically well endowed, the rest being aban- 
doned, as at Sparta. 

Infanticide sanctioned by the moral standards of the people Social seiec- 
is perfectly consistent with a high degree of fosterage and exe^cL^of 
culture of those children who are allowed to live. Such con- adoies- 
scious selection for survival is, doubtless, a more constant 
factor for improving the stock than is natural selection, at any 
rate so far as external and easily observed characteristics are 
concerned. It constitutes the most primitive exercise of the 
selective function that society displays. A second example 
of such activity is to be found in the special exercises of adoles- 
cence. Here society determines the fitness of the young man 
or woman for admission to adult membership. Such selection 
becomes especially significant when society develops offices 
and rank. Here the prize of the manhood examination may 
be a sort of a patent of nobility. In the case of the Athenians 
this examination involved an investigation into parentage, 
since rank depended largely on birth as well as on individual 
qualifications. With more primitive peoples leadership may 
depend on the ordeal, as with the Indians of Columbia and the 
Caribs.^ The public educational system of China is a highly 
developed memory ordeal, to pass which men may spend a 
lifetime in study. For those who are successful in these exami- 
nations there are the rewards of aristocratic honors and privi- 
leges and official position with its natural consequence, wealth. 

The sort of selection that we have so far discussed may, EHminative 
perhaps, be properly called eliminative selection. The indi- ferentiat-' 
vidual who fails is by it shut out from certain prizes, — life, ing seiec- 
citizenship, honors and privileges, office. It aims to separate ucationai 
the approved from those less fortunate, and in some cases to practice 
grade those who succeed. The Republic of Plato sets forth a 
scheme which involves an endeavor to segregate men on the 

^ Compare Letourneau, U Evolution d'Educaiion. 
21 



482 Principles of Education 

I basis of the sort of talent that they display. Differentiation 
thus becomes something more than mere grading. It is true, 
Plato places the learned class at the top, followed by the mili- 
tary class, and they in turn by the commercial and industrial 
class. Moreover, he would determine those who are to be 
in the lower orders by their lack of the intelligence or of the 
spirit that enables one to be a sage or a warrior. On the other 
hand, he gives us the hint that these lower classes have special 
abilities. They are not merely to be characterized as lacking 
in something. They have positive virtues in which they excel. 
The determination of these may well be a purpose of education, 
and such selection we may call differentiating rather than elim- 
inative. It aims not so much to grade, as to find out that for 
which each is especially fitted. It takes account of the fact 
that men differ not merely in degree, but also in kind of talent. 
I An adequate method for differentiating selection is undoubtedly 
one of the great desiderata in modern education. 
Eiiminative EHminativc selection has not disappeared from the modem 
selection in g(>]^QQi 1 'p^g old-fashioued classical course was an admirable 

the modern 

school. In- agency for separating the intellectually weak from the intel- 
of itsTests lectually strong. Those who accuse it of having accomplished 
of ability no other service cannot deny that it offered to those who 
might wish to know a fair rating of the mental power and per- 
severance of the pupil. Some such rating is, of course, neces- 
sary, if the community is to employ intelligently the services 
of the individual. On the other hand, the judgment of the 
school, as based on the power to master Latin, Greek, and 
mathematics, is frequently at fault, and the community has 
come to discount it. The conviction exists that success may 
be gained by many kinds of abiUty which these subjects do 
not test. Moreover, just as the one who fails in school may 

1 Compare Thomdike, Educational Psychology, Ch. DC, " The Influence of 
Selection." 



The Function of the School 483 

succeed in life, so the one who succeeds in school may fail in 
life. Some qualities quite essential to independent enterprise 
this old-fashioned curriculum took no pains to call into ques- 
tion. 

Thus while the rating of the school has value, it is by no School tests 
means a certain index to the uses of those who have been sub- f.^ ""'f ^^ 

like those 

jected to it. The main difficulty lies in the fact that the work of life 
used to test ability is not the same in character as that in which 
this abihty will later on prove useful. It is evident that the 
course of study best adapted to offer a reliable ranking of its 
students is one that best prepares them for the careers in which 
their powers are to be employed. The school that can examine 
most accurately is the one that educates most efficiently. 
The function of eliminating or grading selection should there- 
fore be subordinated to that of education, not merely because 
culture is more important than valuation, but also because 
effective valuation can best be obtained as a by-product of 
effective culture. 

A school that prepares well for life is not only most reliable Differen- 
in grading its pupils, but also most capable of differentiating lectbn ^^ 
them. This function of determining the special aptitudes and more im- 
tastes of the child as a basis for th : selection of his calling is than eiim- 
undoubtedly far more important for the community, as well "jative 
as for the child, than is that of giving him a rating in general 
ability. To help the individual "to find himself," although 
it has been vaguely in the minds of teachers for ages, is now first 
coming to be recognized as worthy to be made a conscious 
aim of the school, — if, indeed, it should not be fundamental 
in certain phases of school work. There can be little doubt 
that the teachers have emphasized altogether too much the 
business of grading and determining relative rank, and alto- 
gether too little that of differentiating the children on the basis 
of their specific aptitudes. 



484 Principles of Education 

The reason The causes of this are not difficult to discern. Our course 

negiecUn ^^ study has Until the latter part of the nineteenth century 
the United been barren on the vocational side. This feature is still largely 
undeveloped. Moreover, the Hberal course of study in the 
United States is a heterogeneous compound, put together on 
the idea that public education in a democracy should provide 
for all equally and give to each the best. This has been inter- 
preted to mean that we should give all the same education, 
and that this should be one which aims at careers of political 
or social leadership, — at the learned professions and aristo- 
cratic life. We have avoided the European system, where the 
elementary school is for the common people, and completes 
their education, but does not lead into the secondary school, 
which is for the aristocracy and the professional classes. 
Instead, we have been building up our boasted "continuous 
ladder," where elementary school leads into high school, and 
this in turn into college. Our system does not, like the Euro- 
pean one, differentiate children on the basis of parentage, but 
rather on that of abihty. On the other hand, since it leads 
designedly toward the learned professions, it merely eliminates 
those not fitted for such a career. We give a far better chance 
than does Europe for the lad of humble hirth to become a pro- 
fessional man, but we do not so carefully see to it that the lad 
of humble talent shall be able to find his calling and prepare for 
it. If the pupil cannot profit from the excellent training that 
we provide, we simply drop him out and let him go his way. 
In recent years the problems of elimination of pupils from 
the upper grades of the grammar school and the high school, 
and of providing more adequate vocational training, have come 
to the front. This widespread interest practically insures an 
adequate provision for vocational instruction at no very distant 
day. In the meantime, it will be necessary to reconstruct our 
continuous ladder so that it will lead naturally and easily into 



I 



[ 



TJie Function of tJu School 485 

whatever vocational instruction a child is best fitted to under- 
take. The mere existence of educational facilities for all 
vocations does not mean that children will properly select the 
work they choose to do. If the school does not undertake Need of 
the task of pro\-iding intelligent gioidance in the matter, it Sdice 
will be left largely to chance. The student of fair ability is inthese- 
apt to become interested in the work that is first called to his aqiedaity 
attention, and, if no broader experience be given, he may 
continue to specialize therein, when there are many other 
occupations in which he might have shown superior skill, 
had the prop>er measures been taken to evoke his interest in 
them. A system that trusts to the preferences of the students 
in the selection of specialized training is Kable to the common 
criticism on the elective system, — that it puts in place of the 
experience of age the whims of callow youth. That these are 
unreliable in choosing a career is certain. They are not entirely 
trustworthy in selecting a wife. It is not merely that the pleas- 
ure-lo%'ing child avoids many severer lines of training that are 
necessary or valuable as a preparation for any manner of life, 
but rather that what he prefers is a result of a mere caprice, 
and is not determined by a thorough exploitation of his abil- 
ities and interests. 

We may say, then, that the function of the school is primarily smmnaiy 
selective. It selects or examines the child with reference to 
social ser\dce, and selects the features of social heredity that 
can most wisely be retained. The function of examination 
takes two forms. It may be either eliminative. or grading, 
selection .or differentiating selection. Eliminative selection 
excludes some and admits others to social protection, citizen- 
ship. pri\-Llege5. honors, offices, etc. This service is apparently 
a necessan,' one. However, it can be best i>erformed by a 
school which effectively prepares for all the fonns of adult 
activity through which success can be gained. Such a school 



486 Principles of Education 

is in a position to undertake the far more important task of 
differentiating selection, — i.e.^ of helping the individual to 
enter into that vocation which is best suited to his abihties. 
Our own educational system needs to become less one of elimina- 
tive and more one of differentiating selection. This requires 
not only that it should offer in rich profusion courses prepara- 
tory to all phases of life, but also that a special phase of school 
life should be devoted to the task of helping the pupil "to find 
himself." 

Section 53. The junction of secondary education 

Primary It is evident that the European method of trusting to hered- 

sccondTry" '^^Y ^^ determine the vocation is more likely to result in a proper 
education selection than the mere chance decision of the inexperienced 

that of dif- 1 •! 1 xr • i • • -i • • 

fcrentiat- child. if our democratic education is really to do justice to 
I'nn^'^''^'^ the individual and to make for the highest efficiency of society, 
it must attend carefully to the task of "putting the round pegs 
in the round holes and the square pegs in the square holes." 
It will be the contention of this discussion that the problem 
of determining the career of the child is the primary function 
of what is known as secondary education. The considerations 
that lead to this conclusion are partly psychological and partly 
historical. 

From the point of view of psychology, it may be said that the 
thts""'""^ secondary school is the school of the adolescent, and that 
adolescence is the time for choosing one's life work. We have 
already indicated ^ that this period may be called an age of 
independence, as contrasted with the epoch of elementary 
education, which may be called an age of rivalry. During 
this earlier period the coercive pressure of society becomes 
the all-powerful influence. Judgment is continually exercised 

^ Compare § 46. 



tion 



The Function of the School 487 

upon the problem of meeting the approval of this or that indi- 
vidual or social group. But with growing experience the child 
becomes aware of different standards, different ideals. Society 
does not constitute a unit in its judgments. Among these 
varying standards the child must choose, and the sense of this 
task, and that it devolves upon himself, ushers in the age of 
independence, or intellectual adolescence. This period usually 
dawns at the time when physiological adolescence is in its 
beginnings. If we apply these considerations to the school, 
it would seem, that during the age of rivalry the child should The age of 
be given those essentials, whether in the way of habits or timeTo/^^ 
information, that society demands of each. This includes the uniformity 
three "R's," expanded to meet the demands of modern life. 
The extent to which the child will at this age submit to social 
pressure makes it preeminently a time for drill, for uniformity, 
and for fundamentals. This does not mean that elementary 
school work should depend entirely, or even largely, upon such 
pressure. It should be as full of immediate interest as it can 
be made. It should be as rich in broad content studies and 
in appeals to the special tastes of children and of the particular 
child as is consistent with its fundamental function of giving 
the indispensable. This last it must do, not merely because 
the indispensable comes first, but because the age of elementary 
education is an age of struggle to conform, when results that 
must be obtained can, if no other way lies open, usually be 
gained by bringing to bear upon the child the approval or dis- 
approval of those who have him in charge. 

It is unfortunate if the child grows restive and critical of 
this school pressure before he has gained the fundamentals. 
For in that event he is likely never to master them. The 
critical spirit is born of a sense of varying standards of judg- 
ment, and of independence in insisting on one's own inclina- 
tions or ideals. It is the natural and desirable spirit for the 



488 



Principles of Education 



Adolescence 
the time 
for experi- 
menting 
toward a 
specialty 



child who is finishing the task of mastering the uniformities 
of social heredity and entering upon that of specialization. 
Its appearance should therefore normally introduce a new sort 
of school work, work submitted to the judgment of the pupil 
rather than enforced upon him. The elementary school pre- 
sents its work and strives to cultivate interest in it, but there 
is no suggestion that this work is subject to the approval of 
those who take it. 

At the coming of adolescence, of the age of independence, 
the child should be ready to undertake the task of experiment- 
ing in the various special lines of activity that it appears pos- 
sible for him to enter. During this age of "storm and stress" 
the youth is apt to run rapidly from this to that ambition. 
Many things appeal, and it is, doubtless, well that he should 
absorb himself in various phases of human activity. Thus 
he is not only broadened in outlook and sympathy, but is also 
given that experience from which alone a satisfactory choice 
of a plan of life can be made. The period over which the pro- 
cess of experimentation should extend varies with the intel- 
lectual ability of the individual. Those of greater ability will, 
doubtless, as a rule take a longer time to choose, inasmuch 
as they are capable of entering upon vocations that involve a 
more elaborate training. Since they cannot test their fitness 
for these higher specialties without doing a little experimental 
work in the studies that fit for them, the more advanced the 
specialty, the longer the period over which the work prelimi- 
nary to the final differentiation must extend. 

It follows that, if we designate as secondary all that phase 
of education which is devoted to the problem of differentiating 
students according to their special talents, it extends over a 
much longer period than is commonly supposed, and covers 
phases of school work that are generally regarded as elementary 
and higher. Moreover, since differentiation is not a simple 



The Function of the School 489 

affair, to be accomplished at one step, but is rather a result of 
successive selections, each narrowing somewhat the field of 
choice, secondary education may include various schools, 
the function of which may be said to be that of secondary dif- 
ferentiation. Primary differentiation we may define as the 
separation of the intellectually capable from those who are 
mediocre or weak in respect to mental power and perseverance. 
After six years' work in the elementary school, it is usually Secondary 
possible to rate a pupil fairly well in general mental ability. Jhouw'be- 
It is, therefore, possible to separate those who should go on in gin after 
the severer Hnguistic, scientific, and mathematical work of the schoof'' 
traditional secondary school from those who might safely be '^^^'^ 
expected to fail in them. These weaker minds have ordinarily 
been ehminated from school during the last two years of the 
prevailing eight years' elementary course, or, at any rate, 
early in the high school course.^ It is evident that a secondary The lowest 
school is necessary which shall introduce them into the kinds grade of 

secondary 

of work of which they are capable, and lead them to a point at school, 

which they can intelligently select some special trade or occu- erai School 

pation, which they may enter by the route of vocational school of industry 
or apprenticeship. Such a school might well give a certain 
amount of liberal culture, that should broaden its students 
as much as their abiHties permit, and train them in civic fife. 

This lowest grade of secondary school corresponds fairly Second grade 

well to the general industrial or trade schools that are coming ^^ school, 

into existence to-day. They do not aim to prepare for voca- The high 

. school 

tions, but merely to introduce to such preparation. Nor are 
they high schools in the proper sense of the term, since they 
do not give any adequate preparation for college. The typical 
high school represents the second grade of secondary school. 
There is good reason for supposing that its work might properly 

1 Compare The Elimination of Pupils from School: Thorndike ; U. S. Bureau 
of Ed., Bulletin No. 4, 1907. 



490 



Principles of Education 



Highest 
grade of 
secondary 
school. 
The col- 
lege 



begin after the sixth school year. In that event, the elemen- 
tary course for all would cover six years. The primary task 
of the high school should be to determine whether the student 
may or may not wisely aim to reach one of the higher profes- 
sions. Certain subjects, languages, civics, science, and math- 
ematics, which form the substance of the prevaiUng high school 
course, will serve as tests of those sorts of ability without 
which, it may justly be said, no student can properly qualify 
for any learned or scientific profession. Those who are elim- 
inated as a result of failure in these subjects should find in 
the high school such courses as will give them the proper foun- 
dation for selecting a vocational school in which to complete 
their education. It may be assumed that they will drift 
into the intermediate positions in trade and industry. To 
supply their need, therefore, the high school should present 
work of the manual training and commercial type. 

The completion of the college preparatory course does not 
for those who are to enter the higher professions conclude their 
work of experimental study. For it yet remains to select the 
special profession. Very few high school graduates are in a 
position to decide this. Very many have as yet decidedly 
hazy ideas about what they wish to do. The traditional col- 
lege course is, properly speaking, a secondary course, at least 
in its earlier years. If it be held that such a course is necessary 
as a preliminary to a choice of a profession, the secondary 
course leading to this sphere of life would cover eight years, 
four in the high school and four in the college. It will be noted, 
however, that, since two years are cut from the present elemen- 
tary course, the entire period of training up to the time of enter- 
ing the professional school is two years shorter than it is at 
present for those who take the college course. On the other 
hand, the professional work, which in many institutions enters 
quite considerably into the collegiate course, is, by virtue of its 



The Function of the School 



491 



exclusion from secondary education, shut out from the college 
work of the scheme here presented. 

Each of these proposed divisions of secondary education, 
the general industrial school, the high school, and the college, 
leads into a further phase of education, — that devoted to 
specific preparation for a vocation. This we may call higher 
education, which includes the lowest vocational schools as 
well as those concerned in the highest professions. Thus 
practically every child will by this plan pass through elemen- 
tary, secondary, and higher education. All will receive the 
same course of training in the elementary school. All will 
get a chance to exploit their tastes and abilities in the second- 
ary school, and all will be prepared for some specific vocation 
in the higher school. Only by means of some such an arrange- 
ment can the function of differentiating selection be properly 
performed by the school, and it would seem to offer that sub- 
stantial equality of educational opportunity which is the ideal 
of the school in a democracy. 

The characteristic feature of a school that aims at differen- 
tiating selection is the presence of the experimental subject. 
Such work possesses two functions. It serves to broaden the 
horizon and to test the pupil's aptitudes. It may be assumed 
that by far the larger part of the work that is necessary to 
give one the breadth and cathoUcity of view expected of the 
well educated is involved in such studies as also function in 
determining one's specialty. The experimental subject will, 
therefore, because it is necessary both for general culture and 
as a means of ''finding" one's self, be not elective but pre- 
scribed. Thus the extent of election is diminished and that of 
prescription is increased. Election becomes primarily selec- 
tion of general courses of study according to preferences that 
are based on an adequate demonstration of interests and 
powers. Within such courses the work should be quite gen- 



Function of 

higher ed- 
ucation 
that of 
vocational 
training. 
Secondary 
and higher 
education 
should be 
universal 



The experi- 
mental 
subject as 
charac- 
teristic of 
the sec- 
ondary- 
school 



492 



Principles of Education 



Fields of 
prescrip- 
tion and 
election 



Passing and 
honor 
grades in 
experi- 
mental 
subjects 



erally prescribed. In general, therefore, prescription should 
include (i) the fundamentals of culture indispensable to all ; 
(2) experimental work sufficient to demonstrate the special 
powers of the individual; and (3) the training necessary to 
prepare for a vocation. Election should include, (i) the spe- 
cialty which the student under the advice of the school and 
after having completed the prescribed experimental work 
regards as most desirable; and (2) such free electives as appeal 
to his tastes, but lie outside the line of work which he has already 
selected as a specialty. This second type of elective work 
would, of course, be connected largely with the later phases 
of secondary education or with the course in the vocational 
school. The desirability of keeping alive broader interests 
after the initiation of professional work proper would seem to 
justify the requirement of a certain amount of such free elec- 
tive work as a condition for secondary and higher degrees 
and diplomas. 

The work of the students in experimental subjects should 
probably be graded in a special way. On the one hand, there 
should be a standard of passing, which is sufficiently low to be 
attained by practically every properly industrious individual 
whose ability enables him to get on far enough to reach the 
subject. Such a grade might be construed as permission to 
drop the subject, whereas a failure to pass, since it implies 
some defect in application, would mean that the subject must 
be taken over as a condition of continuance in the school, or, at 
least, of graduation therefrom. On the other hand, there 
should be an honor mark, signifying such excellence as permits 
and encourages the continuance of the recipient in more ad- 
vanced work of the same character. Thus the marking in ex- 
perimental work gains a practical value as a guide, and often 
a constraining force toward the selection of the specialty for 
which the individual is fitted. 



The Function of the School 493 

The history of secondary education shows a drift toward the Purposes of 

function that we have here assigned to it. Since the Renais- education 

sance the secondary school may be said to have had three dis- since the 
tinct purposes, and to have dimly adumbrated a fourth. 



sance ; 



First of all, it has aimed at liberal culture, then, at preparing for 
college. Of late, it has endeavored to undertake the task of 
preparing for life, and so of becoming to a considerable extent 
a school for vocational training. Experience with this work has 
led to the conviction that it should give, not vocational train- 
ing, but rather certain foundations that underlie a number 
of vocations. It is forced to confine its work to these because 
its students are for the most part floundering about in search 
of what they want, and incapable for lack of adequate ex- 
perience of making an intelligent choice. 

The secondary school began as an institution to provide (i) social 
for the aristocracy a culture valuable for leadership and for culture ■'^ 
leisure. It prepared for polite social Hfe, for diplomacy, for 
the appreciation of literature or art or philosophy or science 
for its own sake. All these aims are psychologically related 
to adolescence, because at this time the growth of social interest 
and of devotion to ideals reaches its climax. It is true that 
the secondary programs have been so conservatively guarded 
that they have often appeared antiquated, and to serve as little 
more than a device to bring the youth into an intercourse that 
has been of great value as a means of social training. Never- 
theless, social and civic culture remains to-day one of the 
principal functions of secondary education, and, doubtless, a 
permanent one. The subsidiary playful activities of the stu- 
dents will combine with a considerable part of the curriculum 
to contribute toward this result. 

In the course of time, the secondary school came to be largely (2) assump- 
concerned in preparing for higher institutions of learning. At fun"ct^on ol 
the Renaissance it was very imperfectly related to the uni- preparing 



494 



Principles of Edtication 



for univer- 
sity or col- 
lege 



Revolt 
against 
the pre- 
paratory 
school 
ideal 



(3) Rise of 
the ideal 
of prepar- 
ing for 
Ufe 



The high 
school stu- 
dent not 
prepared 
to select a 
vocation "• 



versity. Indeed, it was a rival institution, offering a con- 
siderably modified course of study in response to a newly 
developed demand on the part of the aristocracy and the 
middle classes. The expansion of university work led the 
secondary schools to drop into the position of preparing for 
them. This transformation is especially in evidence in the 
United States, where the academies and high schools, which 
in the beginning of their history offered what seemed then 
like a fairly complete liberal course, paralleling and in certain 
respects even surpassing that of the college, have sunk back 
into preparatory schools. Thus our continuous ladder has 
been perfected, at the cost of leaving out of consideration 
provision for differentiation. 

For over a decade there has been going on a vigorous revolt 
against this conception. The spread of the secondary schools 
into all parts of the country, involving an enormous increase 
in attendance, has brought before the public attention the 
problem of satisfactory training for that vast majority of 
high school students who do not reach the college. The high 
rate of elimination during the first and second years of the 
high school course suggests that the existing program does 
not meet the needs of most of those who enter upon it. The 
result has been the growth of an independent spirit on the part 
of the high schools. Since the number of students who go to 
college is small, they have come to feel that their main problem 
is that of preparing the rest for life. They have been building 
up courses in commerce and industry, and have drifted rapidly 
toward vocational training. 

We have seen that endeavors in this direction have been 
compelled to submit to amendment because those entering the 
high schools are not yet ready to select a vocation. The sec- 
ondary schools must continue to be preparatory. But it is 
far from necessary that they should confine themselves to 



The Function of the School 



495 



preparing for college, or even for the professional schools. In- 
deed, it is of the greatest importance that they should come 
to regard as their most important function that of leading each 
student into that vocational or professional school for which 
he is best fitted by nature. 

Thus the tendency in secondary education seems to be 
toward the assumption of the function of differentiating selec- 
tion as its main service. This function is especially impor- 
tant in the education of the adolescent, and it should probably 
begin to dominate school work as early as the seventh year. 
Here, then, secondary education should begin, and there are 
many signs that the elementary school of the future will offer 
only a six years' course. To make this practicable it is neces- 
sary to have the secondary system completed by the addition 
of the general industrial school to take charge of the fortunes 
of those who are manifestly ill adapted to the high school. 
Differentiation on the basis of general ability will separate 
those who go to the general industrial school from those who 
go to the high school, and again, those who go from the high 
school into special vocational schools from those who go to 
college. The function of differentiation on the basis of special 
abilities will be performed for one group by the general in- 
dustrial school, for a second, by the courses in commerce and 
industry in the high schools, and for the professional classes, 
by the college. In many features this plan is in existence to- 
day. General or intermediate industrial schools to care for 
those who drop out of grammar or high schools are coming into 
existence. The high schools are expanding their courses to 
bring them in touch with the vocations, yet they are being 
driven to differentiate their work from that of the special vo- 
cational schools. They are encroaching upon the liberal stud- 
ies of the college, on the one hand, and reaching down to take 
in the brightest children of the upper grammar grades, on the' 



(4) The pres- 
ent tend- 
ency to- 
ward a dif- 
ferentiat- 
ing rather 
than a vo- 
cational 
course 



496 Principles of Education 

other. They are thus not only expanding, but also extending 
their course. The colleges are struggling with the problems 
of introducing professional work which will count for a degree, 
of cutting down the time of the regular course, of adapting 
their programs to the needs of to-day. More than ever it is 
evident that the work of their two first years belongs, where it 
is placed in Europe, in the scheme of secondary education. 
On the other hand, the American college is likely to remain 
distinct from the high school, since there is need of a specific 
institution to introduce to the study of the professions. 

Section 54. The school as determinative of social heredity 

The stand- We have seen that the school not only examines the indi- 

examtna- vidual with reference both to general fitness for social service 
tion as the and to spccial aptitudes, but also selects the material that 
social he- shall enter into the culture of all and each. Thus it determines 
redity social heredity, eliminating the useless and the antiquated, 
and prescribing that which the judgment of its leaders regards 
as making for the highest efficiency of the individual and of 
society. However, in its earher stages social heredity is an 
exceedingly inflexible affair.^ The school in determining it 
merely conserves the established practices, adding the weight 
of its influence to the forces making for permanence. More- 
over, the function of instruction is at first largely bound up in 
that of examination. It is in setting a standard by conforming 
to which the child wins the approval of school and so of so- 
ciety that the school determines the habits, ideas, and ideals 
of the young. At first, it is not so much concerned in ques- 
tioning the worth of its standards as in determining by means 
of them the worth of the individual. Eliminating the unfit, 
selecting, grading, absorb the attention of teachers, and the 
standards of tradition are uncritically assumed. 

^ Compare § lo. 



The Function of the School 497 

The shifting of attention from exclusive devotion to the The accumu- 
task of ehminative selection over to that of selecting social ^"^'onof 



culture and 

heredity comes as a result of the accumulation of materials of the rise of 
culture. The growth of the content of social heredity is in- selection 
evitable unless conservatism sets about resolutely to check it. 
The rise of such a warfare upon innovation is the first form of 
a conscious endeavor on the part of the school to control the 
subject m.atter of the education of the young. This attitude 
would, however, seem to preclude any advance to a rational 
determination of social heredity, thus smothering this function 
in its infancy. On the other hand, the forces, both internal 
and external, that make for progress^ ultimately compel a 
reconstruction of the culture material. The control of this 
reconstruction, like that of the earlier conservation, must be 
exercised either by or through the school. 

The development of independence on the part of the school Early con- 
in the exercise of this function is the growth of academic free- andtutT 
dom, which was considered in the last chapter. This result ordination 
has been, as we have seen, the achievement of the modern school in 
democratic state, the state that aims to be free from the con- '^^ ^^''^ 
trol of privileged classes. In primitive society the school 
expressed in its instruction the ingrained conservatism of this 
epoch of culture. The group possessed but one type of edu- 
cation, and its fitness was questioned by none. Civilization 
came by the route of the warfare of cultures, and the forma- 
tion of the composite state with various classes, each having 
its own culture, one dominant, the others subordinate.^ In 
such a condition the school continues conservative, for it 
expresses the wishes of a ruling class that strives to preserve 
its privileges. The school determines social heredity, but in 
subjection to the will of a class. 

There is one feature of this composite society that is of 

' Compare § 39. "^ Compare § 14. 



498 Principles of Education 

Specialized great importance in reference to the future function of the 
cultures in g^^j^QQj jj- jg ^ gocial Order that involves not one culture, but 

classined ' 

society many, and, although one is recognized as best, each comes to 
require a special sort of talent. Thus we have the rise of spe- 
cialization, and specialization creates for the school, when once 
a democratic society has decided against the assignment of 
specialties according to birth, the problem of differentiating 
selection. 

When once the forces that undermine the conservatism of 
early culture have succeeded in creating so much material 
that it becomes necessary for selection to reduce this to such 
proportions as can be contained in a practicable course of 
study, then the problem of determining social heredity becomes 
a vital one for the school. If the individual cannot be trusted 
to select that which he is best fitted to do unless he has the 
active, and, indeed, the coercive assistance of the school, 
neither can society expect any rational determination of the 
course of study so long as the teachers are dependent in this 
Academic function upon the wishes of any class or party. Academic 
thTbaSso'f ^'^^^^^o^ is the only condition of an efficient, progressive, and 
rational fair control of the work of education. This proposition has 
S soda? ^^^" debated at length in the preceding chapter. Here it re- 
heredity mains to outHne the method by which authority in the school 
and freedom in the child may, so far as the course of study is 
concerned, be made to work together most efficiently. 
Authority in A Certain authoritativeness on the part of the school, so 
Is^he b°a°is ^^^ ^^°"^ repressing the individuality, as many think it is likely 
of freedom to do,^ may bccomc the foundation of the highest degree of 
freedom. Freedom consists in achievement along lines that 
seem to the individual worth while. It is, therefore, based 
on the experience that gives one a trustworthy sense of values, 

1 Thus Herbart (Applications of Psychology to Education, Letter XXXII) 
and Spencer {National Education) fear state control as too authoritative. 



The Function of the School 



499 



program 
as the out- 
come of ex- 
periment 



and upon the knowledge and skill that enables him to be 
effective in the world of men. In both these respects the 
guidance of the school is indispensable. It must compel all 
to get certain fundamentals of culture. It must require each 
to submit to its prescriptions and tests before admitting him 
to such studies as he feels called to elect as a specialty. So far 
as free electives are concerned, it should permit the maximum 
of election consistent with efficiency, but must determine 
the electives that are worth while and shut out the others. It 
should, above all, continually experiment on new methods 
of teaching and new courses or materials for instruction. But The school 
it will not content itself with offering this experimental work, 
trusting to its appeal to parent or pupil as a measure of its 
success. On the contrary, a constant endeavor will be made 
to determine the success or failure of these experiments by 
collecting data in regard to their effects over long ranges of 
time. Thus survival will be made to depend upon intelligent 
selection rather than upon individual preferences founded 
upon caprice or imperfect evidence, and incapable of definitely 
and finally determining to the satisfaction of all any educa- 
tional values. 

The progressive school will, therefore, not be, as Mr. Spencer 
thinks, the school that offers to the individual anything that 
he may chance to want. The free play of individuahty with- 
out any adequate selective agency to determine which of the 
products of such activity shall survive does not lead to prog- 
ress. The experiments of the school will be under the direc- 
tion of the school itself, rather than under that of pupil or 
parent. The creativeness that is intrusted with the task of 
improving social heredity will not be that of immature or in- 
experienced childhood or of men whose training makes them 
expert in other than educational matters, but it will be that 
of the leaders among the teachers themselves. The decisions 



500 



Principles of Education 



that the school reaches will be embodied in the program that 
it gradually evolves. This program will, of course, have to 
be accepted by the public, but it will be sufl&ciently elastic to 
permit the adequate expression of individuahty. A protest 
on the part of parent or child or society in general against 
what the school offers can be met either by the inauguration 
of a new experiment or by a reference to the data in regard to 
the failure of previous ones. 

In the previous chapter it was pointed out that academic 
freedom must be safeguarded by such checks as insure the 
constant attention of the school to those needs of social life 
which it is the province of education to supply. Historically 
the teachers have always concerned themselves with greater or 
less success, not only in preserving, but also in bettering the 
ideals of society. They have preached a gospel of the higher 
life, which in many cases seems to have divorced them from 
practical affairs. In modern times they have become inter- 
ested not only in improving the morale of society, but also in 
inventing better methods of bringing about generally recog- 
nized aims. The school reflects the attitude of the time in its 
conception of its duty. Our universities were not at first cen- 
ters of scientific research. This was because society itself was 
slow in realizing the need of becoming consciously progressive 
in matters of knowledge. Once alive to that need, and its 
accredited organ, the school, becomes the natural agency to 
carry on this function. To-day the university is the home 
of research. Again, the task of applying science to the arts 
search and of life was for many years left to outsiders, to practical men, 
and the universities contented themselves with researches that, 
instead of aiming at improving human conditions in material 
ways, were animated solely by the desire of extending the 
bounds of human knowledge. To-day it is safe to say that 
the inventor, the expert in the application of science to any 



The Function of the School 501 

phase of practice, is rapidly coming to find his home in the 
professional departments of the higher institutions of learning. 
Here he may find an assured income for support, and resources 
for experimentation that are adequate. Moreover, the results 
of his research are not private monopolies to be exploited by 
clever business men for their own profit, but can be utilized by 
all. We are coming to see that progress in efficiency is far more 
swift and effective when supported by special agencies that are 
incorporated in the school, than when it is left merely to the 
interests of private enterprise. The assumption of respon- 
sibility for the betterment of social heredity will remove the 
last argument against intrusting to the school the authority 
to determine what its content shall be. 

Our main contentions are, then, first, that the function of Conclusion 
determining social heredity cannot be avoided by the school ; 
second, that it exercises this function in a manner which ex- 
presses the dominant spirit and tendencies of the society of 
the age ; third, that if the age be progressive, a powerful, 
independent, and resourceful school will direct and accelerate 
that progress far more effectively than a weak and dependent 
one. 



CHAPTER XVII 



THE ACADEMIC AND THE PRACTICAL 



Variety of 
the aca- 
demic in- 
terests 



Restriction 
of the 
school to 
the aca- 
demic. Its 
willingness 
to devote 
itself to 
this 



Section 55. The evolution of the academic 

We have defined the ''academic" as a form of culture pur- 
sued for its own sake and without reference to practical appli- 
cation. Religion, philosophy, ethics, science, art, even busi- 
ness, may tend to become "academic." By a strange paradox, 
the man of intense worldly activity may come to regard this 
activity as valuable without reference to its relation to human 
life as a whole, and so become "academic" in the universal 
sense of the term. He may get things done just for the sake 
of getting them done. He may glorify husy-ness. He may be 
intoxicated with the desire to make money without reference 
to its uses. He may absorb himself in a life of mere strenuous- 
ness, and so become as genuinely "academic" as Plato him- 
self. 

This universal meaning of the term must be kept in mind 
whenever the relation of the academic to the practical is con- 
sidered. However, since the great historic academic interests 
are those of religion, philosophy, science, ethics, and art, we 
will in the present section limit ourselves to them. We have 
already taken account of what may be called the negative 
reason for the devotion of the school to unworldly aims.^ 
Only at the price of restricting its investigations and its teach- 
ing to academic issues was this institution able to gain freedom 
in these matters. However, if this were the only reason for 

^ Compare § 50. 
502 



The Academic and the Practical 503 

the devotion of the school to the academic, its attitude would 
be, indeed, inglorious. Such an explanation cannot account 
for the enthusiasm of schoolmen about the pursuits that ab- 
sorb them. There must be positive reasons that lie back of the 
extraordinary prestige that the ideals of truth, beauty, and 
goodness have enjoyed and still enjoy in the minds of men. 
These positive reasons it is the purpose of this section to con- 
sider. 

It is probable that the love both of knowledge and of beauty instinctive 
find their roots in instinct. Instinctive curiosity lies back of basis of 

•' the aca- 

the philosophic and scientific ideal, and aesthetic taste is demicat- 
grounded in native love of rhythm, harmony of form, melody, 
etc. In the early history of man, however, these instincts 
served a use that it was not difficult to detect. Primitive utilitarian 
intellectual and artistic interests are always close to the utili- of e^ir"^ 
ties. IntelHgence was at first so absorbed in the dire problem culture 
of satisfying the simplest human needs that it could hardly 
devote itself to academic ideals. Religion, philosophy, art, 
and ethics are in their beginnings eminently practical and 
worldly. They become academic by virtue of an inner growth, 
the main phases of which can readily be seen. 

If we begin with religion, we discover that as soon as the Religion at 
human mind began to make its incursions into the realm of Jrian^^^ 
the supernatural, it proceeded to put to use its superstitions. 
The intellect of the individual discovers outside himself other 
personality, endowed with interests and power to realize them. 
The volitions of these persons explain much of that which 
otherwise would seem utterly unaccountable, because so irreg- 
ular and capricious. He naturally extends this explanation to 
account for everything that rouses wonder by varying from 
the customary, and the will of a person is seen behind each 
unusual event. Especially is this true of those phenomena 
that affect human welfare. Man's experience of the benefi- 



504 



Principles of Education 



Rise of the 
contrast 
between 
temporal 
and eter- 
nal power 



cence of human friendship and of the terrible consequences of 
human hate is so intense that he cannot fail to discover these 
motives behind the good and the evil that come from nature. 
Thus imagination, unchecked by scientific tests, sees the voli- 
tions of supernatural beings behind all the important events 
in the natural world, and cunning strives to ascertain the 
intentions of these wills, and, perchance, to influence them to 
serve the welfare of the self or of the social group. 

The interest of primitive man in the attitudes of gods and 
demons is continually deepened by the magnitude of the forces 
that these beings are supposed to control. All that the intel- 
ligence or power of man can accomplish is as nothing in the 
hands of the mysterious agencies that govern the supply of 
game, the rain, the crops, disease, and health, the outcome of 
conflict, in short, everything but that narrow circle of events 
that receives some feeble light from human insight and falls 
directly under the grip of human will. Thus to know the will 
of the gods becomes the most important knowledge, and to be 
able to influence it the most important power. Moreover, 
as human memory is strengthened by oral and at length by 
written tradition, the sense of the limitations of human fore- 
sight and the transitory nature of human effort becomes even 
greater. Man may do a little now, but that little becomes 
infinitesimal when we consider how quickly it disappears. 
The gods, who are all-powerful, are by an inevitable logic 
endowed with immortality. They are the eternal forces. 
Man's activity is temporal, fleeting, insignificant. The en- 
deavor of the imagination to invent a being worthy of the 
feeling of awe with which the human mind confronts the ever- 
lasting is, doubtless, one of the psychical factors that leads 
to the sublime generalization of Monotheism. 
^rshipas It is plain that the absorption of the mind in the task of 
the leading ^jnning the favor of the supernatural powers tends to draw 



The Acadetnic and the Practical 505 

it away from the endeavor to master nature directly. The method of 
consciousness of the magnitude of the unknown and of the ^^ccess. 

° its failure 

apparent helplessness of human abihty to master it leads man in this role 
to seek the desired things mainly through the forms of worship. 
However, the responses of the gods to prayer and sacrifice, 
or to neglect, insult, and the spoliation of their temples are not 
always immediate or certain. Often it seems as though a 
deity had failed to remember his followers, or was bestowing 
favors with no regard to service. Thus men became convinced 
that "it rains alike on the just and the unjust," and the patience 
of Job is necessary to preserve faith in the midst of the strange 
dispensations of an incomprehensible Providence. Under 
such conditions the human mind naturally takes refuge in the 
thought that to an everlasting God the events of human Hfe 
are not of such significance as they seem to man. What to Contrast be- 
man, limited in vision to the years of a life, appears as vitally naUnd*^"^" 
important, to God, who knows eternity, seems as trivial, worldly 
What man regards as injustice, God intends as discipline. 
"Whom the Lord loveth, He chasteneth." Thus man begins 
to lose confidence, not only in his power over nature, but also 
in the accuracy of his judgment in regard to what constitutes 
practical success. After all, life is full of vanities, with which 
God cannot be supposed to have much sympathy. We are 
in His hands; what need to worry over worldly failure or suc- 
cess ? The important things are the things of eternity. 

Thus religious belief, leading man to strive to gain his ends Rise of aca- 
by the intervention of the gods, turns the attention away from ^^^^ ^^' 
the directly to the indirectly practical. Then, through the 
failure of such practice to gain what is expected, it causes him 
to despise practical considerations as of no permanent impor- 
tance. A similar devotion to the academic appears in the 
development of philosophy and science. Philosophy, of which 
science is an offshoot, has been from its beginnings an endeavor 



5o6 



Principles of Education 



Early phi- 
losophy a 
practical 
art 



Philosophy 
as the 
study of 
the per- 
manent 
nature of 
things 



to rationalize life, to adapt conduct to permanent rather than 
temporary conditions, and to do this by getting at the deeper 
meanings of things, on the one hand, and by conforming hu- 
man attitudes to them, on the other. Thus it has always been 
associated with effective practice. The philosopher was tra- 
ditionally the wise man, the man who penetrated to ultimate 
causes and regulated his life thereby, one who knew the motives 
of men and how to manage them and to give them laws, one 
who knew the properties of natural things and could use them 
to accomplish remarkable things Uke the cure of disease, the 
prediction of eclipses, the invention of engines of war. 

Philosophy springs from rehgious speculation. The contin- 
ued reflection on the causes of things leads thinkers to discover 
uniformities in nature rather than caprice. Indeed, the vohtions 
of men come to be regarded as subject to law. The philosopher 
interests himself in the endeavor to formulate the principle or 
principles that lie behind all the phenomena of experience. The 
theological character of early philosophy is seen in that these 
principles are usually regarded as the nature of God. Such 
a God is, however, not a Being to be influenced by adulation 
or neglect. He is a Fate, an irreversible law, a permanent 
behind the transitory phases of experience. 

The study of first causes, although calculated, as we have 
seen, to rationalize Ufe, led man's attention away from the 
endeavor to control nature through a mastery of her laws. First 
of all, philosophy possessed no method and had not yet accu- 
mulated sufficient data to get acquainted with the more recon- 
dite properties of natural things. Hence, its speculations did 
not result in any very rapid or very startling reconstructions 
of the methods of attaining the ordinary ambitions of men. 
This fact made it easier for the mind to discredit the importance 
of such applications, when once this negative attitude was 
suggested as a result of the further progress of philosophy. 



The Academic a7id the Practical 507 

Second, the contrast between the immutable, which reason thephe- 
demands and finds, and the transitory, which the senses appre- niusory 
hend, led men to believe that there is an impassable chasm 
between the absolute and the phenomena of experience. The 
latter came to be regarded as non-being, as unreal, illusory. 
The senses that tell us that they exist were held to be decep- 
tive. Only reason, which fathoms the nature of the transcend- 
ent, the immutable, can, on this view, reach reahty, and so be 
relied upon to tell the truth. The Platonic idealism represents 
the ultimate outcome of this view. The true reality is held to 
be the form, the universal idea. Change is chance, Matter is 
imperfection, corruption, non-being. Particular things have 
reality only in so far as they are copies of the idea, — that is, 
partake of it. The goal of mental and moral activity is to 
attain knowledge of the idea, to be at one with it in conduct 
and thought. 

It is not the purpose of this discussion to enter into a criti- philosophy 
cism of the Platonic philosophy. One cannot question, how- acaSc 
ever, that interpretation of Platonism which makes the highest 
occupation of man the search for knowledge for its own sake. 
The philosopher, the lover of truth, is not worldly, and to the 
worldly he must seem impractical. He seems impractical 
because in a sense he is practical, in making his conduct cor- 
respond to his theory. He busies himself in the study of that 
which cannot improve his worldly fortunes. His rule, if he 
were permitted to rule, would not be opportunism. He would 
constrain human conduct within the lines of a plan that would 
consider not the exigencies of the moment, but the pattern of 
the absolute. Such a man cannot fail to be regarded as im- 
practical. The practicalities of ordinary men are to him futil- 
ities. He loves with that subHmated passion which has been 
called Platonic love the permanent, the perfect, the ideal, the 
divine. Platonism represents in its most typical form the 



5o8 



Principles of Education 



Ethics at 
first con- 
cerned in 
the rules of 
prudence 



Failure of 
prudence 
to justify 
its prac- 
tices 



love of truth for its own sake. Thus we find in the culmina- 
tion of philosophic speculation among the Greeks an attitude 
quite comparable to the outcome of religious reflection among 
the Hebrews and in the Orient. As God transcends the finite 
and cares little for the fortunes of the hour, having an eternity 
in which to accomplish His purposes, so reality transcends the 
sphere of circumstance, and calls the lover of truth away from 
the unintelligible spectacle of the phenomenal world to the 
majestic uniformities and permanences of the world of ideas. 

Corresponding with these religious and speculative move- 
ments, there is an ethical movement the outcome of which is 
similar. When men first begin to reason about conduct, 
they naturally assume that it aims at prosperity more or less 
immediate. As the range of ethical experience widens, they 
come to substitute more and more remote aims for the simpler 
ones that lie near at hand. However, it is as yet concrete 
good fortune at which all conduct aims. One simply gives up 
the lesser pleasures for the larger success ; for power, influence, 
prestige, wealth, or health he barters the immediate satisfaction 
of his impulses and appetites. 

But further reflection convinces the thinker that, no matter 
how carefully he orders his life, it does not seem possible to 
assure himself of earthly success. No human power can avail 
against disease, false friends, the accidents of nature, or the 
fickleness of society. Prudence, as the rule of rational conduct, 
seems an utterly inadequate guide. It aims at an end to which 
it is incapable of attaining. Under these circumstances, the 
self-control that was originally invoked to enable one to follow 
the ends held by judgment to be most permanent comes to 
serve as a force by which men can defy the distribution of favors 
that the chances of life bring about. Men become cynical, 
and seek mastery of their fortunes by the negative method of 
caring only for what they can be sure to get. Or, with the 



The Academic and the Practical 509 

Stoic, they exalt self-control into a self-sufficient ideal, and 
declare that "virtue is its own reward." The notion of a duty 
entirely disconnected either with the fortunes of one's self or 
of his family or state makes its appearance, and man comes to 
despise the utiUties as calUng the interest away from that which 
is truly good. 

The ethical philosophies of the later days of classical civili- Ethics be- 
zation are all somewhat affected by the feeling that the most academic 
praiseworthy course of conduct lies in a certain indifference 
to worldly success. If the Epicurean admonished man to seek 
happiness, he was certain that this end could best be attained 
by such culture of character as makes one indifferent to those 
phases of human fortune which he may be unable to control. 
To him and to the Skeptic, as well as to the Stoic, the ideal 
was the untroubled life, the life at peace with itself, and con- 
tent with whatever lot may befall. Such an attitude is cer-' 
tainly not utilitarian. At most, it merely tolerates the prac- 
tical, finding in the ideal of reason which regards not specific 
consequences the supreme law of conduct. Man orders his own 
Hfe to secure his own contentment, whether with the Epicurean 
he gets what he can and cares not for the rest, or with the Stoic 
he values only the ideal of duty, despising the dispensations of 
fortune when these do not conform to justice. 

When the human mind in its reflections reaches the religious Academic 
devotion of a Job, or the speculative zeal of the Platonic ideal- utiiiuri-° 
ism, or the lofty self-sufficiency of the Stoic conception of virtue, anism 
it is apt to look with suspicion upon any attempt to harness 
the truth in the service of any aHen master. It is felt that to 
serve God for a reward is not genuine piety. He who is con- 
tinually seeking the application of truth to practice is set down 
as not caring for the truth, but only for what he can get out 
of it. If a lie will serve him better than the truth, it is supposed 
that he will prefer the lie, or, at any rate, that he will not care 



fare on the 
practical 



510 Principles of Education 

to question any belief which is useful for his ends. No man 
can get repute as a true philosopher who teaches for pay, for 
rank, or for influence. Such an one will always be credited 
with "making the worse appear the better reason," if it serves 
his purposes to do so. True religion scorns any pious offices 
that smack of worldly designs. "Render unto Caesar the things 
that are Caesar's, and unto God the things that are God's." 
The spiritual and the temporal are sharply separated. The 
value of spiritual well-doing is seen to lie in spiritual better- 
ment. The saints find their reward not in earthly palaces, 
but in heavenly mansions. 

Rise of war- Thus not Only do men come to devote themselves to the holy, 
the true, and the right without regard to their practical uses, 
but they come to look with disfavor upon any attempt to dabble 
in the practical. Under such conditions, the "academic," 
that which pertains to the culture of the school, but does not 
concern itself with the life outside, gains a prestige that threat- 
ens to submerge the interest in the utilitarian. We find the 
natural outcome of this in the asceticism and mysticism of 
the Middle Ages. The negations of celibacy, seclusion, 
poverty, and self-inflicted torment were the natural accompani- 
ments of a conception of life that found the only noble occupa- 
tion in spiritual contemplation, and the only worthy ultimate 
goal in the Beatific Vision. 

utilitarian In its beginnings art, like religion and ethics, was ostensibly 

thrafm^of utilitarian. Adornment of the person connects itself ordinarily 
early art. with a primitive symbolism, indicating honors, status, achieve- 

Adornment ,_. 

ments, etc. 1 he ornamentation of weapons, clothmg, baskets, 
dwellings also springs largely, if not wholly, from an attempt 
to express significances that have real or supposed value. 
It is not meant to deny that artistic forms are pleasing to the 
primitive man apart from their utility. Indeed, the utility 
of the adornment is partly due to its aesthetic attractiveness. 



The Academic and the Practical 511 

On the other hand, this aesthetic quality is often due merely 
to the conventional association of the artistic product with a 
desirable distinction on the part of the possessor. The mean- 
ings and utilities of primitive art are to be found in the social 
ideals of the people to which it appeals. The artist sets him^ 
self to express or symbohze social traditions and values, and 
he hopes through this expression to gain the influence or pres- 
tige connected with these values for himself or for his patron. 

But primitive art does not find its sole utility in glorifying Sodai utii- 
the social status or achievements of the individual or class. ^'^^ °^ ^'^'^ 
It connects itself with play, with tribal enterprises and with 
reHgion, and serves the same utilities as they do. We have 
already discussed how play and rehgious ceremoniaP tend to 
become associated, because both help to socialize men, and 
because the form of each has no special aptitude for any other 
clearly defined use. The form of play may be what we choose, 
just as may that of rehgious ceremonial. Neither gods nor 
circumstances will interfere to prevent the freedom of human 
taste from determining these forms, as long as they are not 
productive of positive harm to the individual or to the com- 
munity. Thus aesthetic taste is left in control of the situation, 
and play and rehgious ceremonial become its special province. 
They sociahze men, and art helps them in this service by ena- 
bling their forms to instill most effectively the social ideals. 

As yet, however, the value of the art form is not seen to rest 
upon its inherent excellence as a means of expression. Orna- 
ments are prized for the distinction that they give their wearers 
rather than as works of art. Religious ceremonial is held 
sacred, not because of the beauty with which it expresses the 
religious attitude, but because it is regarded as acceptable to 
the gods, and hence likely to win their favor. The growth of 
art into wider service helps it to gain an independence of these 

^ Compare § 45. 



512 



Principles of Education 



Growth of 
art into a 
special vo- 
cation. 
Idealiza- 
tion of ar- 
tistic ex- 
pression 



Art becomes 
academic 



aims, and so of any utilities. Since the artist deals with expres- 
sion, he grows to be a fundamental force in social control. 
Wherever man would influence man, art can teach him the 
most effective way. The artist through song or dance or 
ceremonial or wild festivity rouses the emotions and dominates 
public opinion and action. He serves religion to make it mys- 
terious and awful, the state to awaken the enthusiastic support 
of its citizens, the interests of leaders or of privileged classes 
by celebrating their heroic deeds, their superior gifts, and their 
bounty, or by surrounding them with the trappings and the 
atmosphere that inspire admiration, reverence, and fear. 
When, with leisure, social intercourse becomes an occupation 
for a select class, art exerts itself to give this intercourse a form 
so captivating that it justifies idleness and saves the interest 
of those upon whom sloth would pall. 

Thus the creation of effective forms of expression becomes a 
vocation. The artist is differentiated, as one whose specific 
task is to fashion the beautiful. At first an inventor of expres- 
sions by which society or the individual can exert a desired 
influence, he comes to be one whose products are seen to have 
a certain perfection in themselves, as the ideal embodiments 
of phases of human experience. He ceases to be a servitor, 
and becomes a master. In the Hfe of cultured leisure he is 
the high priest, for he can make expression so excellent that 
it seems to need no utility to warrant its existence. Hence 
art acquires a certain sanctity. It becomes the perfect reve- 
lation, and whether it reveals the evil or the good, the shams 
or the realities, it matters not, so long as it makes its portraits 
speak their meaning. 

In this manner expression comes to be regarded as a thing 
worth while for its own sake. That which at first existed that 
it might convey certain meanings came to be regarded as val- 
uable apart from these significances. Not that art can get 



The Academic and the Practical 513 

along without something to express, but that for it the supreme 
interest is expression, and that any one whose artistic creations 
are dominated by a desire to influence the conduct of men in 
certain practical ways ceases in so far to be an artist, and be- 
comes a preacher, a reformer. Always the ideal of the artist 
is to keep utiKties in the background. The Muses cannot be 
ordered about as servants. They must be worshiped. To 
the true artist considerations of the practical effects of his 
work upon the thought and conduct of men, and of its value 
as a source of income or prestige to himself, are alike irrelevant 
and corrupting. No extraneous motives should be suffered 
to defile the pure devotion to "art for art's sake." Thus this 
field of human endeavor comes to range itself along with reli- 
gion and philosophy, science, and ethics as something inde- 
pendent of and, in a sense, apart from the rest of life, a thing 
of cults and schools, academic rather than practical. 

Section 56. The reaction against the academic 

The practical man of affairs has usually looked upon the Worldly re- 
devotion of the schoolman to the ideal of the form of culture contlipt 
that he represents with covetous interest, with fear, or with for the 
amused toleration. For, first of all, reHgion, philosophy, and ^^ ^""'^ 
art have a powerful appeal to the human mind, and their whole- 
hearted devotees command a respect that can never be ac- 
corded to a worldly man, whose motives seem, as in point of 
fact they usually are, selfish. Hence the support of the school- 
man has always been eagerly sought by men of affairs. If 
such support can be gained without discrediting the motives 
of those who afford it, the man of practice gains for his policies 
the enormous advantage of a seeming justification by men 
entirely disinterested and by principles absolutely general 
and impartial. The evolution of academic freedom, while 



514 



Principles of Education 



Tendency of 
academic 
investiga- 
tions to 
affect prac- 
tice 



Persistence 
of devotion 
to the aca- 
demic 



it has not removed the desire for and the possibility of such 
support, has tended to put it out of the power of arbitrary 
commands, and even, to some extent, that of diplomacy or 
corrupting influences. 

But we have seen that academic freedom has usually meant 
in its beginnings the freedom to think, act, and speak as mind, 
conscience, or taste might direct, so long as the defenses of estab- 
lished order are not assaulted. In this limitation the practical 
world shows its fear of the schoolmen, for the prestige that their 
supposed disinterestedness gives them makes them not only 
valuable supporters, but also formidable foes. When, however, 
they are rendered innocuous by restrictions that prevent them 
from applying their theories or their art to living issues, they 
are very naturally tolerated as harmless dreamers, or, perhaps, 
ridiculed as being of no more real importance tha mounte- 
banks or court jesters. 

Nevertheless, academic freedom grows, and the discoveries, 
of the schoolmen accumulate until they constitute a founda- 
tion for revolutionary effects. Philosophy, ethics, and science, 
penned behind the barriers of the school, gain such energy 
as at length to break down its restrictions and to rush forth 
to reconstruct the social and economic conditions of men. 
Ethics gradually allies itself with democracy and fights its way 
into practice. Invention, hitherto left largely to accident,^ 
discovers in the researches of academic science ideas the appli- 
cation of which transforms in a marvelous way industry and 
the material resources of life. These achievements gradually 
wean science away from its distrust of the practical, and it 
lends itself more freely to the service of the utilities. 

However, the prestige of pure science remains proof against 
both the ridicule of men who are frankly utilitarian and the 
allurements of practical success, which are everywhere inviting 

* Compare Bacon, Advancetnent of Learning. 



The Academic a?id the Practical 5 1 5 

investigators to devote themselves to that which pays. So 
strong is human interest in the truth, and so great is human 
admiration for its disinterested pursuit, that the attitude of 
devotion to the academic cannot be shaken by the contempt 
of some or by the bribery of others. The discovery that science 
can be utilized creates applied science, but does not discredit 
pure science. There are, however, tendencies that ultimately 
force the school to look to the practical exigencies of Ufe for 
guidance in both its teaching and its research. That atten- 
tion to the practical, which could not be compelled by extra- 
neous pressure, is coming now as an inner necessity, a condition 
of a satisfactory carrying out of its own work by the school 
itself. The movement that brings about this resort to the 
utilities consists of an accumulation of learning, and the rise 
of a struggle for existence among disciplines and cults. 

The accumulation of learning is partly a cause and partly Effects of 
a result of the differentiation of the learned class. When this jcncy "or 
learning grows so ponderous in bulk that any further additions learning to 
threaten the preservation of what has gone before, three alter- late 
native lines of action lie open, each of which finds abundant 
illustration in history, (i) The school may become conserva- 
tive and refuse to permit new elements of culture to be added 
to what it already teaches. (2) It may admit new material, 
and provide for its retention alongside of the old by a resort 
to specialization. (3) It may undertake to select what should 
survive, subjecting both new and old culture to tests which 
eliminate some materials and permit others to remain. 

(i) The school in its earlier history is conservative not only (i) Conserv- 
because society compels it to be so, but also because of natural farron\he 
inclination and self-interest. As disciple succeeds creator, new 
and scholarship and commentary take the place of independent 
thought and original productiveness, the admiration of the 
master creates a fear that further originality will be purchased 



5i6 



Principles of Education 



Attack on 
this atti- 
tude as 
selfish 



The victory 
over con- 
servatism 
and the 
overpro- 
duction of 
culture 
material 



at the expense of a loss of what he has achieved. Moreover, 
since the master's work gains in honor as the generations roll 
by, discipleship comes to have a prestige that cannot be secured 
by originaHty, nay, was not enjoyed by the master himself 
in his own lifetime. Thus conservatism becomes to the school- 
man the part of prudence as well as of reverence for the glo- 
rious dead. 

This conservatism is, of course, doomed when once there 
arises a conflicting and more advanced group of ideas. The 
progressive tendency enjoys the advantage not only of a more 
forceful appeal to reason, but also of the weakness of its adver- 
saries in that they cannot fail ultimately to be charged with 
placing personal interest above truth. Thus that prestige 
which constitutes the original advantage of the conservative 
decays and proves his ultimate undoing. His faith ceases to 
be regarded as a sacred respect for the truth, and is held to 
constitute a disguise for self-interest, if not the garb of a hypo- 
crite. Thus the new philosophy, the new culture, wins its 
way. But it brings with it a revolutionary spirit, a tendency 
to be suspicious of traditional belief and vested right that 
makes it in turn an easier prey to its successor. 

But the advance of intellectual life does not consist merely 
in substituting one system of thought or culture for another. 
The body of culture material, when once the check of conserva- 
tism is removed, renews its growth. The historical sense de- 
mands the preservation of the antecedents of the newer teach- 
ings. The classics in literature and philosophy are not less 
honored in the curriculum because of the introduction of new 
works of genius. History is continually presenting a broader 
field and fresh material. Even science, which thinks largely 
of the "up-to-date," does not lose all interest in the past. 
Moreover, without reference to its history it continually 
reaches out in its investigations, and piles up new material 



The Academic and the Practical 517 

which clamors for admission into that which is taught. Thus 
the curriculum is swamped. 

(2) To permit the school to handle all this material which (2) Rise of 
the breaking down of its conservatism allows a hearing, the speaaUza- 
method of specialization appears. Many men, many minds. 

To this conception of culture we have committed ourselves. 
The days of the polymath are passed. Each must choose one 
phase of learning, and that a very narrow one, if he would hope 
to exploit therein the sum of human achievement, and in turn 
produce. No matter how peculiar the path thus trod, there 
will probably be some to follow, some to whose taste this sort 
of scenery will appeal. 

In order to permit each subject to make its appeal to the The elective 
judgment and the taste of the individual, the elective system proll^ing^ 
comes to prevail in the school. It strives to offer free play to fo"" speciai- 
the forces of differentiation, to do equal justice to all phases 
of culture, to recognize the new without breaking with the old, 
to offer equal opportunity to each to develop his own talents 
according to his own desires. In specialization election finds 
its current justification and reason for being. It may be said 
to date from the beginning of differentiation of types of school, 
although it is commonly associated with the culmination of 
such differentiation in alternative courses and subjects within 
the ame school. 

(3) But while the ostensible purpose of election lies in the (3) Theeiim- 
desirability of specialization, the elective system of modern cuSe ° 
times has had another motive and function. It has served as material. 

, . „ . 1 r • . T- Election as 

a means of providmg for a struggle for existence among sub- a method 
jects. The result of this struggle is the elimination of some "{igj^J'"'"" 
subjects, because they fail to attract a sufficient number of this 
students, and the ranking of those that survive according to 
the patronage that they receive. As an arrangement to permit 
specialization, the elective system makes for expansion of the 



5i8 



Principles of Education 



The elective 
system as 
an appeal 
to the de- 
cision of 
patronage 



Apparent 
resort to 
the judg- 
ment of 
practice or 
utility 



course of study ; as a scheme for providing a struggle for exist- 
ence among subjects,, it furthers the work of selection in nar- 
rowing this course. 

The elective system does not mean that the school has un- 
dertaken the task of selecting its program from among compet- 
ing materials. On the contrary, latitude in election is a result 
of the unwillingness of the school to choose, and of an attempt 
to thrust this responsibility upon its patrons. This unwilling- 
ness may spring from the spirit of commerce, the desire to 
offer the widest variety of stock, and, in order to make many 
sales, to persuade each customer that what he seems to fancy 
is the best. Unfortunately, the subordination of the school 
to other interests in society has only too often reduced it to the 
position of selling education according to popular demand. 
A more creditable motive for leaving the choice among studies 
to the individual lies in the fact that the school often is unable 
to determine beforehand what is best. The various subjects 
and phases of subjects that crowd upon the gate of the curric- 
ulum all have plausible reasons for demanding entrance. 
Each represents some part of the truth. Each appeals to 
that academic catholicity of appreciation that loves the 
truth for truth's sake and can see beauty in forms that 
are not classic. 

Thus the multiplication of studies and of cults puts the 
school under the necessity of providing a means of determining 
their relative value. Since this can hardly be done with entire 
satisfaction a priori, the elective system enters in as a sort of 
application of the trial and error method to the problem. 
The judgment of the event is invoked. But this judgment 
is that of practice. The academic, unable or unwilling to 
settle the strife between the competing forms of culture, appeals 
to the test of practice as a basis for the appraisement of rela- 
tive values. It abandons its gospel of personal culture, and 



The Academic and the Practical 



5^9 



seeks to satisfy the demand of the community. It becomes 
utiUtarian. 

The growth of the spirit of api^iied ethics and of api^hed 
science has encouraged and sustained the school in its resort 
to the arbitrament of the practical. But in spite of the enthu- 
siasm which the positive achievements of this spirit, whether 
in social organization or in invention, have aroused, it is the 
contention of this discussion that the academic attitude remains 
unshaken until the struggle among its own products compels 
a resort to the judgment of utility. After all, utility, conform- 
ity to environment, plays here its invariable and characteristic 
role of the selective principle that determines survival among 
the achievements of men. To paraphrase the proverb, "man 
proposes, but the environment disposes." The realization of 
this fact has driven us into a practical age, has submerged the 
academic in the utilitarian, which all perceive to have, in a 
sense, the final word. We are "pragmatic," even in our philos- 
ophy. We are above all "up to date," which means that we 
discard everything as soon as we suspect that it may not work 
quite as well as something else. Indeed, in our fear of being 
behind the times we frequently cast off the better for the worse, 
and in our rage for the practical we lose sight of those very 
conditions conformity to which constitutes the essence of prac- 
ticality itself. 

Such a criticism may well be passed upon a school which 
fancies that through the elective system it renders itself in 
the highest sense of the term practical. For it assumes that 
the only and final test of practicality is demand for its wares 
on the part of the public. It governs its instruction as a mer- 
chant does his business, keeping sharply in mind what men 
want rather than what they ought to have. Indeed, it is 
assumed that what men desire and what they need are really 
one. However, even the business man has learned to force 



Th« school 

pra>ctkal 
primarily 
l/j settle 
the strife 
of subjects 



Practicality 
not ade- 
quately 
tested by 
patronuj;e 



or inlclli^ 
Ki'iil clioic 



520 Principles of Education 

trade, to create demand, to induce men to want what they 
did not dream of coveting before the agent or the advertise- 
ment or the fad or fashion of the hour convinced them of the 
dire distress of their i)rcseiit ijMght. If business is j)ractical 
in causing men to want to buy what it has to sell, much more 
should education feel that it is part of its practical service, 
after it has done its best to discover what it is most nearly 
certain that men genuinely need, to attempt to infuse the 
young with an eager longing for these ultimately desirable 
things. 
i;ii(ii..n fails The elective system in education is like the policy of laisscz 
I'uuc^hvo /^"''^ '" government. We may add that, just as laissez /aire 
fails because, when the government takes off its hands, other 
forces for social control quite as irresistible enter in to assume 
the abandoned functions and to manipulate them in the inter- 
ests of individuals or of classes, so the elective system fails 
because without the interference of the school an impartial 
determination of the relative practical value of subjects is 
impossible. Paradoxically, to be under a "let alone" policy 
means not to be let alone, and the school, like the state, cannot 
avoid the responsibility of an imi)artial judgment concerning 
the deserts of comi)etit()rs. The children before whom the 
materials of culture are sjjread have as yet neither taste nor 
judgment in reference to most of them. They are, therefore, 
really victims of a variety of influences that are not impartial 
but partisan. The influence of jxirents, thrown on the side of 
the studies with which they are familiar, or whicli possess 
l)r('slige in their circles of society, the attitudes of fellow 
students, who are governed, in part at least, by youthful con- 
siderations, the popularity or advertising skill of instructors, 
— these are but a few of the many forces quite as efl"ective in 
determining choice as is the fitness of the work for the individual 
making the election. 



The Academic and the Practical 5 2 1 

The delegation of the work of selecticm to tlie judgment of 'v\w. (-iwiive 
the event is both wasteful of energy and pernicious in outcome. wa >i.Tui in 
It is wasteful, because the trial and error method is always k.\wm'^ ^nA 

c \ I'll i-'ii- • 11 IK:rni(:iou» 

wasteiul as com[)ared with that of mtelligcnt learning. r>ven i„ rcnultH 
though the school cannot tell beforehand what studies should 
survive, it should hold itself to the task of acquiring such 
experience as will at the earliest available date make j)ossibIe 
a definite rational decision. Any other course is not only blind 
and blundering in method, but imperfect in result. 'I'rial and 
error learning does not of necessity get the best, but only that 
which works. The results of free election might give an edu- 
cation that would keep its patrons at the level of culture which 
is their standard, but it might at the same time fail by a great 
deal of giving them the best that they can get. Education is 
an agency for determining tastes and ideals, as well as for cater- 
ing to those (jf the mass (jf its patrons. 

From time immemorial the school has striven to perform ThcHthwi 
this function. Indeed, as an academic institution its solution "^^ [['^*; "'"'^ 
of the problem of life has been that of conquering and mold- aposttic of 
ing the instincts, rather than that of showing how circumstances taUonjii 
can be mastered. ICthically we have been taught humility v^*'"*-" 
and self-control, to live for ideals which, since they are depend- 
ent upon ourselves, certainly can be realized. We have 
been taught to govern our wants by what we can get, "to go 
to the mountain," instead of worrying about bringing the 
mountain to ourselves. However, in modern times the greater 
efTiciency (jf human effort has created so enormous an interest 
in the practical that it has given rise to a sort of feeling that the 
ideal can take care of itself. The problem is now no longer 
to limit our wants to our meager powers, but rather to extend 
our powers so that we can gratify all our wants. 

The realization of this result is, of course, not only imprac- 
ticable, but also undesirable. Since our wants contradict 



522 Principles of Education 

The school each Other, and since the wants of one often conflict with those 

strive to ^^ others, we are faced with the problem of rationahzing our 

determine purposes. We Hiust discovcr what adjustment of instincts 

practicable and ideals is at once the most practicable and the most desir- 

^^^. '^^^ . able standard for the guidance of conduct. This problem 

desirable in . , '■ 

life the school cannot shirk, since upon it falls the duty of deter- 

mining social heredity, of divining and in a measure marking 
out the course of progress. It must undertake the task of 
excluding the useless and the undesirable from the curriculum, 
and it must, in consequence, develop a method of experimenta- 
tion and a principle of selection by which progress through the 
survival of the best may be assured. 
Summary The endeavor to determine the work of the school by refer- 

ence to its bearing on all the aims of life may be characterized 
as an appeal from academic values to those of utility. Edu- 
cation by this course loses its isolation and seeks to serve. It 
aims at efficiency, — that is, at that which in the struggle 
for existence must survive because it has abiding value. In 
setting up certain values as supreme to the exclusion of others, 
education became academic. However, the accumulation of 
a superabundance of material, every phase of which could 
justify from the academic point of view its place in the curri- 
culum, created a problem of selection. This problem could be 
settled only by an appeal to the practical. The laissez /aire 
method of securing this result is seen in the rise of the elective 
system. This method is faulty in that survival is not thereby 
determined according to satisfactory criteria. The standard 
of survival which it brings to bear is not merely the power of 
the form of culture to make men efficient in realizing admittedly 
valuable results, but also the attitude of youths toward values 
that are as yet in question. Hence a free elective system 
leaves its subjects to stand or fall largely by their appeal to 
unenlightened caprice in regard to what is really worth while. 



The Academic and the Practical 523 

The school is in duty bound to replace blind by intelligent 
selection, whether this concerns the most efficient methods of 
gaining certain desirable results, or the determination of results 
that shall be regarded as desirable. It is bound to take an 
attitude in regard to the ultimate end of education, because 
only thus can it gain a criterion by means of which it can deter- 
mine the relative value of the phases of culture that are possible 
for it to give. 

Section 57. The ultimate end of education 

The question of the ultimate end of education is that of the 
ultimate aim of life. This fundamental problem of ethics 
we cannot expect even dogmatically to exploit. However, 
since the teacher must govern his work by some conviction 
on this matter, it would seem necessary for a theory of educa- 
tion to suggest the method by which educational aims can 
most satisfactorily be defined, and to indicate the leading con- 
stituents in the educational ideal. 

In our introductory chapter it was contended that the con- utility as 
ception of utility is the only criterion by which the school is bat^^on 
able to determine among competing lines of study those which ideal 
should prevail. On the other hand, it was suggested that util- 
ity is itself an empty conception unless it gets content from 
those ideals of personal culture which it is the province of the 
useful to serve. We may take the ground that the curriculum 
must prepare for efficient living, yet it is evident that this does 
not relieve us from the necessity of discussing what sort of a 
life one who may justly be called efficient lives. Efficiency in 
life is an ideal quality. It is, perhaps, self-preservation ; but 
self-preservation is with humanity dependent on conformity 
to conditions which human beings regard as standards of legit- 
imate, appropriate, or ideal conduct. The appeal to practice 



values 



524 



Principles of Education 



The estab- 
lished ideal 
as the con- 
dition to 
which 
progress 
must con- 
form 



Internal ori- 
gin of the 
positive 
factors in 
evolution. 



is essentially a falling back upon the general verdict of human- 
ity in regard to relative values among various ideals of life. 

In the last section the view that the school should leave to 
the community the task of determining the curriculum by 
simply giving or withholding its patronage from this or that 
course which the school offers was opposed. It was maintained 
that the school should endeavor to rationalize the various aims 
of life, that it should study these as they appear in action 
both historically and to-day, and that its appeal to practice 
should not be a blind reliance upon the popular verdict of the 
hour, but rather a rational determination of the experience of 
the ages. In this universal experience all the academic ideals 
will be seen to play their part, struggling for existence, deter- 
mining and being determined. For, once accepted by mankind, 
an ideal of life becomes a condition of which all other ideals are 
compelled to take account. The practical of to-day is the net 
outcome of the progress of humanity in reference to the con- 
struction and determination of its ideal. 

It is important to note the agreement of this point of view 
with the general notions of evolution and development which 
have been adopted and defended in our earlier discussions. 
The formula that sums up these processes is that of variation 
and selection. The variation comes from within, the product 
of unknown forces ; the selection is brought to bear from with- 
out, from the environment, from the conditions of life. The 
conditions of life do not explain life, nor any one of its functions. 
They merely constitute that to which life or any one of its 
functions must conform in order to remain. No variation that 
is not practical can survive. 

The positive element in development and evolution comes 
from within. The external is merely negative, selective. 
Selection does not account for life, for power of movement, 
for sensitivity, for cognition, nor for morality. Yet all 



The Academic a7id the Practical 525 

these may be said to have established the relative importance 
they hold in the scheme of evolution because they con- The func- 
formed to the forces that determine survival. The power vitTbl"-"^ 
of movement survives because it enables its possessor cause of 
to avoid unfavorable and to seek favorable environments, ny 
Pleasure and pain prove their right to exist by enabling read- 
justment by the method of trial and error. Cognition is fa- 
vored by selection because it makes possible ideational read- 
justment, through which we avoid the loss of life or of vital 
energy incidental to cruder forms of learning. Morality, too, 
finds its title to permanence in that it furthers that most 
helpful of agencies, cooperation. 

But while it is plain that utility constitutes the title of these The higher 
fimctions to survival, it can scarcely be urged that it is the ethically^ 
reason for their existence. For this would imply that we feel more vai- 
and think, hate and love, and admire the beautiful in order than the 
that we may live. Ethically it would seem that the truth is "^^^ '^^^y 
the exact opposite ; that we live in order that we may enjoy 
and suffer and strive to make life more pleasant, more beauti- 
ful, more intelligent both for ourselves and for others. If 
Hfe were the valuable thing, and all other functions were worth 
while merely as contributory to it, we ought to be willing to 
part with these other functions, provided we could live just as 
well without them. Yet who would be wilhng to vegetate as 
the plant does, if thereby he were assured a life as long as that 
of the sequoia I Not only would man regard Hfe on such terms 
as a useless affair, but he ranges his functions on a scale of 
valuation according to which the latest to appear are, as a 
rule, rated as the most worthy of honor. Thus he would be 
imwilling to exchange the higher intellectual and moral life, 
even though it might involve much unhappiness, for the ex- 
istence of a hog with every assurance that the wants of his 
brutish nature would be supplied. 



serve 



526 Principles of Education 

From the point of view of mere utility, we are conscious in 
order to live. From the point of view of ethics, we live in 
order that we may be conscious. In the long run the standard 
of ethics determines the higher utility. The meaning of evo- 
lution is to be found in its products, not in its beginnings, in 
final rather than in efficient causes. Cognition and morality 
cannot, it is true, fail to conform to the conditions of life, 
for if they did so fail they would promptly disappear, together 
with the life that they have failed to protect. On the other 
hand, the preservation of life on terms that are hostile to the 
primacy among its interests of cognition and morality is repug- 
nant to the better judgment of man. We can and do raise the 
question, "is life worth living," — a question which on the 
hypothesis that life itself is the supremely valuable thing be- 
comes impossible and ridiculous. 

We have already emphasized the fact that the higher func- 
tions bring with them new needs. When they have proved 
their right to survive by their utility, they incorporate, as it 
were, their own ideals into the conditions of successful living. 
To the intelligent being life is not enough, he must have insight 
as well. Our environments are not merely the physical con- 
ditions by which we are surrounded, but they are the entire 
past of the race, with all its progress and achievement. To 
serve the total established aim of humanity is the higher util- 
The practical ity, and nothing short of this can be regarded as genuine effi- 
as service (.jg^i^y. It follows that the essence of the practical is to serve 
standard- the academic, — the accepted, the standardized academic, 
demir^ the academic which is the fusion of all genuine recognized 
ideals of human life, which has been winnowed by selection 
and found a permanent good. The higher utilities of life 
Constant re- are subject to a process of reconstruction. Each new product 
tbn oahis ^^ evolution must submit itself to the test of survival, which is 
standard ^hc tcst of servicc. It must help to foster established aims. 



The Academic and the Practical 527 

But when it has once justified itself, it becomes part of the 
established order to which the new competitor for recognition 
must submit its fate. 

We have spoken of mere utility as that which makes for the Seif-reaii- 
mere preservation of Hfe. The higher utility means that which ^^^^^ hest 
serves those interests that make life worth living. It adapts utility 
us to the standard of life which is a rationalized expression of 
the experience of the past. There may be said to be another, 
a highest utility, the essence of which consists in fostering the 
improvement of standards. To this highest utility the aim 
of life is not self-preservation or preservation according to 
existing standards, but rather self-realization. It looks upon 
human nature as a thing of exhaustless potentialities, and re- 
gards the exploitation of these imrevealed powers as the high- 
est service to man. 

Defined as the service of self-realization, this highest utility seif-reaiiza- 
may seem not like a practical, but rather like a purely ideal beusTfufto 
value. On the other hand, it is evident that the ideal values be real 
become actual, and so are genuinely realized, only by conform- 
ing to and serving life as it is. The highest utility does not 
consist in creating new values which are worth while for their 
own sake. Paradoxical as it may seem, that only is worth 
while which serves other ends outside itself. Nothing in iso- 
lation can justify its right to be. Academic seclusion does not 
save the ideal, but rather destroys it. The knowledge that 
does not help us to gain some other good thing, — wealth, 
health, beauty, morality, more knowledge, — is by that fact 
rendered of no value and not worth the keeping. Herein lies 
the necessity of an appeal to practice, to established values. 
Self-realization is an utility because that which the self creates 
out of its own resources must serve the general good before it is 
entitled to rank among the realities of life. Realization is 
putting into practice, bringing into conformity with things 



528 Principles of Education 

as they are, and the service of self-realization is a genuine util- 
ity because it looks to a future that betters the present only 
after conforming to its conditions. 
The aim of The method by which the aim of the school is to be discovered 

found by" i^' therefore, that of rationalizing human practice up to date, 

rationaiiz- and thereby arriving at what may be called the standard valu- 
ing human . ri-r-nx •(• •• 1 !• 1 

practice atiou of life. No way exists for appraising the relative value 
of various activities except by determining their relation to the 
total aim of life as revealed in experience. And, it may be 
added, since experience is never finished, we can never say that 
all the things for which practice exists are definitely known. 
The history of evolution is a continuous revelation of new phases 
of that which seems indispensable to a perfectly satisfactory 
universe. Nevertheless, within reasonable limits it is perfectly 
feasible to approximate to a view as to what is worth while that 
conforms to the experience of the vast majority of mankind. 
Constituents The Constituents of the aim of education include the lower 
cationai^^ Utilities of mere self-preservation, — health, mastery of a 
aim vocation, ability to get on in society. The standard in ref- 

erence to each of these varies. The health requirements of 
one age are not so exacting as they may be in the next, and the 
same is true of vocational skill or social adaptability. Educa- 
tion is bound to consult the existing standards and to strive to 
better them where this seems desirable in view of the other aims 
of life. The aim of the school includes the higher utilities, 
the ideal values of life, knowledge, beauty, and morality. 
These values are, as we have seen, grounded in instinct. Curi- 
osity leads on to the ideal of the intellect, the parental and 
social instincts lead, when rationalized, toward the ideal of 
duty, and there are doubtless instinctive preferences of taste 
which are the foundation of intelligent aesthetic appreciation. 
Since the ideal is in each case the instinct rationalized, we may 
speak of it as the ideal of the reason. 



son 



The Academic and the Practical 529 

It is part of the function of the school to serve and to foster The school 
the ideals of the reason. This academic task is its traditional !''°ll? ^°^' 

ter the 

duty, and there need be no fear that it will lag in an office so ideals of 
much to its liking. Nevertheless, since the present tendency ^ ^^^^^^ 
is so markedly utilitarian, it is important that the school should 
realize clearly the place of these ideals of the reason in the 
higher utilities of life to-day. A society that talks persistently 
about utiHty without analyzing its meaning and constituent 
elements is apt to test results more by the lower utiHties than 
the higher ones. Hence, to speak of the school as utilitarian 
means to many men to degrade it from its ancient dignity, and 
to make of it a mere instrument of a materialistic society. 

But the ideals of the reason have become so thoroughly incor- utility of 
porated into the demands of life that the school cannot be service to 

, , , . the ideals 

utilitarian save through continually cultivating them. From oftherea- 
time immemorial they have constituted the test by which 
society has awarded its highest honors, if not its most lavish 
material rewards. Society recognizes in the ideals of reason its 
salvation against the anarchic effects of intelligence when this 
works in the service of self-interest, and against the emptiness 
of the life that makes the amassing of wealth its sole pursuit. 
A school that would serve merely the lower utilities would be 
regarded by society as failing in its service, as neglecting the 
things that are most useful. Indeed, in our civilization so 
ingrained is the demand for ideal values, that we tend to ideal- 
ize the practical and to convert the very gospel of utility into 
an academic value, — that is, one worth while for its own sake. 
Hence we become wedded to a belief in the supreme excel- 
lence of the power to get results without reference to the value 
that these results may have for the other ends of life. 

In idealizing the practical, however, society and the school 
are unquestionably opening an opportunity for all the values 
of life to assert themselves and to become to a greater degree 



530 



Principles of Education 



The practical 
world as 
the meet- 
ing place of 
ideal val- 
ues. Con- 
sequent 
process of 
selection 



Practicabil- 
ity and de- 
sirability 
interde- 
pendent in 
the estab- 
lishment 
of relative 
values 



than ever before effective in human practice. The world of 
activity, of achievement, is the meeting place of men and of 
ideas. In that world, all things are put to work, are made 
means to the accomplishment of ends. It is a good thing for 
the sense of the need of getting things done to be emphasized, 
even overemphasized. The world is ready for a practical age, 
in which the lumber of the schools shall be dragged out and 
either be put to work as material for a new construction of 
society and industry, or, if such uses cannot be found, be 
definitely set aside. The idealizing of the practical means the 
realizing of the ideal, and this reaHzation means that vigorous 
selection of the products of human power without which a con- 
sistent, unified, forward movement in human affairs is impossible. 
The problem of the school may be stated in slightly different 
phraseology as that of discovering for its pupils that which is 
desirable and practicable for them to study and to become. 
The practicable is that which agrees with the conditions of 
life. However, these conditions are largely of human creation, 
and can very extensively be changed by the evolution of new 
attitudes, new ideals, new desires among men. Hence, the 
problem of determining the practicable is very largely a prob- 
lem that should take account of the possibility of modifying the 
conception of the desirable entertained by humanity. On 
the other hand, the desirable is subject to the test of practice. 
That which will not work must perforce cease to be desired. 
Practicability is continually asserting itself to destroy some 
ideals, to reduce the importance of others, and to enhance the 
valuation of a few that prove most fundamental and abiding. 
Among the desirable things the love of truth, of beauty, and of 
righteousness are most valuable because the knowledge, the 
art, and the conduct to which they lead are not only worth 
while for their own sake, but because they furnish, on the 
whole, the greatest aid to all the other desirable ends of life. 



The Academic and the Practical 531 

So far as the school is concerned, it is evident that it has Tendency of 
thought more of the desirable than it has of the practicable. ard*^^u ii 
This is very probably due quite as much to the tendency to to forget 
follow the line of least resistance in pupils as it is to the aca- ticai'"^^*^" 
demic self-absorption of the masters. It is easy to graft upon the 
instincts of the child the ideals of the reason. It is curious how 
singular a lack of the sense of the utility of knowledge pupils 
may possess. From actual tests I am led to believe that at 
least the majority of an average class of college students will 
reply to the question "What is the practical value of knowl- 
edge?" by saying in effect, "To get more knowledge." This 
answer may be in part the result of their training, but it seems 
also to indicate that their sense of utility interposes few ob- 
stacles to the domination of the academic ideal of knowledge. 

It is probable that the motive of utility needs to be empha- Need of cul- 
sized in the schools, not so much because it is necessary in order utiiitarian- 
to get interest or effective work, but rather because without 
such emphasis the child fails to become sufficiently practical. 
What we need is less dependence on the ideals of the reason, 
particularly the intellectual ideal, and more upon the judg- 
ment of relative values. The age of independence in child 
development should find him not only inspired by academic 
ideals, but also sobered and made critical by a healthy utilita- 
rianism. The school should be practical and teach the art 
of being practical. It should be on the alert to determine by 
every means in its power the usefulness of its work in promot- 
ing the total welfare of men. Such an attitude cannot fail 
to react upon its pupils, filling them with a critical spirit in 
regard to relative values. 

It is in the upper departments of our educational system, 
in secondary and collegiate education, that the divorce between 
the academic and the practical is most in evidence and does 
most harm. College students in general are apt to fall into 



ism 



532 



Principles of Education 



Bad effect 
of overem- 
phasis of 
the aca- 
demic at- 
titude on 
(i) the stu- 
dent who 
readily as- 
sumes it ; 



(2) the stu- 
dent who 
resists it 



one of two classes. The first of these consists of those who 
become absorbed in one or several phases of the higher culture. 
They wish to devote their lives to this. In order to do so they 
usually take up the profession of teaching, in the hope that they 
may thus be able to live more and more exclusively with their 
beloved specialty. Such students, however, are frequently 
ill adapted to teaching. They are simply enamored of a 
phase of learning, and have paid no attention to the practical 
value of this in the culture of men, or to the correlative problem 
of teaching it. In these matters they are not interested ; 
perhaps cannot become interested. Exclusive devotion to 
one kind of truth has blinded them to all other phases of life, 
in a word, to the utilities. Certain interests that are normal 
and necessary have been atrophied, while all the nutrition has 
fed the one passion, which, alas ! all too frequently renders its 
possessor inefficient in the economic struggle for existence. 

The second class of students are the avowed utilitarians. 
They are in college for the sake of the business value of what 
they learn, or rather, since this cannot always be clearly dem- 
onstrated by the professor or appreciated by the student, for 
the social or professional value of the degree. Such students 
are, according to our criterion, not less impractical than their 
idealistic brethren. For while they are not losing sight of the 
problem of making a living, they are oblivious to the higher 
utility of "making a life." Moreover, nothing can be more 
impractical than to do useless things just because it is the 
fashion. 

The college that exalts the academic ideal at the expense 
of the ideal of efficiency harms both classes of students. The 
idealist may blame it for the ineptitude of many a life out of 
which a normal utilitarianism has been educated. The utili- 
tarian may justly complain that, since no attempt was made 
to square the work he was called upon to do with a sense of 



The Academic and the Practical 533 

values which is after all healthy, he has been led into idleness, 
indifference, and shams. 

We may conclude that the ultimate end of education is that Summary 
of adjusting the young to the realities of life. Since these 
reahties are with man largely estabHshed ideaHties, the utili- 
tarianism of the school resolves itself to a considerable extent 
into a service of those aims which have constituted the academic 
motives of schoolmen. On the other hand, since no aim is 
permitted to remain in isolation, no knowledge, art, or moral 
practice will be suffered to survive in social heredity unless it 
proves its right to exist by its use, that is, by its service to other 
aims than itself. Thereby alone can its relative value be 
determined. The method of determining these relative values 
must be that of rationaHzing human practice up to date. 
Perhaps, also, the school may be able to forecast new ideals of 
human nature, and by promoting their spread aid in the prog- 
ress of humanity toward the reahzation of its potentiahties for 
growth. At any rate, the educational institution is bound to 
lead the way in philosophic and scientific investigation, in the 
progressive interpretation of the moral law, and eventually in 
the advance in artistic taste. 

The constituents of the educational ideal include such funda- 
mental conditions of self-preservation as health, vocational 
efficiency, and conformity to the social order. These are factors 
of the simplest phase of utility. The educational aim concerns 
the service of the ideals of the reason, knowledge, artistic taste, 
virtue. These are the higher utilities, because in man's scale 
of valuation they are held as of greater worth. The highest 
utility is the service of self-realization, and in the control of 
this the school may be assigned a voice. But everywhere it 
must keep close to practice, to relative values, to the gospel of 
achievement. It must be on the alert to the verdict of practice 
upon its work. It must combine a wise conservatism with 



534 Principles of Education 

willingness ruthlessly to cut loose any form of culture the serv- 
ice of which has fallen below that which its presence excludes 
from the curriculum. Especially should the school cultivate 
the spirit of critical valuation or of utilitarianism among its 
pupils, for only through this can they achieve the highest 
service both for themselves and for the society in which they 
live. 



CHAPTER XVIII 

LIBERAL AND VOCATIONAL EDUCATION 

Section 58. The evolution of liberal education 

Historically, liberal education has generally meant, as Various 
the term indicates, education of free men, or aristocrats, — ^^ub^rai 
and so education for leadership and leisure. On the other education 
hand, vocational education has meant that training which fits 
one for gaining a Kvelihood through economic service of some 
sort, — a species of culture and a career which have been 
traditionally despised by the upper classes. However, the term, 
"liberal education," has been used very loosely, and we can 
distinguish two other main significances that it has possessed. 
According to the first, liberal education is social and ethical 
culture, whether it be that of the leader or of the follower. 
Professor Laurie ^ defines the education with which he as an 
historian deals to be "the means which a nation, with more 
or less consciousness, takes for bringing up its citizens to main- 
tain the tradition of national character, and for promoting the 
welfare of the race as an organized ethical community." 
Such a definition excludes the vocational, and we may take 
it as one large vague meaning that liberal education is fre- 
quently thought to have. The third meaning is that of broad 
as contrasted with narrow education. Here the word "lib- 
eral" is used in the common signification of "generous." 

All these meanings are interrelated, and they appear in phases 
of the evolution of that education which can to-day most ap- 
* History of Pre-Christian Education. 
535 



536 Principles of Education 

propriately be called liberal. We shall offer an outline of that 
evolution, which will, however, consist in great measure of 
material that has already appeared in connection with earlier 
discussions. The special problems associated with the dis- 
tinctions between liberal and vocational education are suffi- 
ciently important to warrant the assembling here of whatever 
concerns it, even at the risk of repetition. 

Evolution of (i) The first phase in the evolution of liberal education is 
cuituTe'^^for ^^^ development out of general ethical culture of a distinct 
leadership type suitcd especially for training in leadership because of the 
power that it gives in social control. A class with this sort of 
a special culture appears as a result either of the differentiation 
from a democratic society of some who are gifted to control, 
and their endeavor to perpetuate their power in their children, 
or of the conquest of a race inferior in ethical qualities and 
training by one more fortunate in these respects. The position 
of control of the dominant class enables it to develop and to 
perfect a system of training in morals, manners, ideals, knowl- 
edge of human nature, military skill and intelligence, religious 
belief and ceremonial, statecraft, and the like, which serves to 
maintain the supremacy of their caste. Thus we have the edu- 
cation of the aristocrat differentiated from that baser culture 
which serves only the lower needs of life and is supposed to be 
tolerable only by those who are servile by nature. 

Expansion of (2) Liberal education evolved from education for leadership 
this into jj^^Q education for leisure. The governing class inevitably 
for leisure bccomcs to a great extent a leisure class. The arts of life which 
have so far been largely of utility in leadership are patronized 
because they contribute to amusement, to self-glorification, 
or to those nobler tastes and ideals which the life of reason 
constructs for itself. Not only does the aristocrat become a 
patron of education for leisure, but so also do the schoolmen, 
for whether; philosophers, or priests, or artists, whether munifi- 



Liberal and Vocational Educatio7i 



537 



cently patronized by the nobility or left in neglect, they are, 
to some extent at least, a leisure class. Their academic cul- 
ture grows out of and remains closely associated with educa- 
tion for leisure, and both aristocrat and schoolmen look upon 
the noble enjoyment of leisure as equivalent to doing that 
which is worth while for its own sake. 

(3) But while education for leadership grows into education 
for leisure with its academic interests, there develops later on a 
rift between them. The academic interest leads to ideas which, 
since they are not produced under the constraint of an interest 
in the estabHshed method of social control, often run counter 
to the desires of the ruling class. Hence, as we have seen, 
schoolmen are restricted to academic issues, and education 
for leadership remains in a deathlike conservatism. Under 
these circumstances the term liberal education may more 
appropriately be applied to the education of the school, in so far 
as this possesses genuine freedom and power of growth. 

(4) Nevertheless, the divorce between the education of the 
school and education for social control is not permanent. 
The views of life that are evolved by men of thought inevitably 
react upon the conduct of men of action, and the school which 
fosters thought, since after all it is in and of the world, must 
eventually make its ideas known and felt. This happens 
even though both thinkers and aristocrats combine to keep 
the disturbing ideas from becoming current, cynically condon- 
ing a social order which conscience pronounces unjust and 
reason unsound, as did the Illuminati in the days of Louis XIV. 
The fearless frankness of those who cannot conceal the truth 
because of self-interest combines with numberless subtle ways 
in which ideas are diffused, until at last the suspicions of the 
submerged mass are roused to join the forces making for the 
reconstruction of a social order that the better judgment of 
humanity has declared unsound. 



Liberal edu- 
cation 
tends to 
become 
academic 



The higher 
thought 
and the re- 
construc- 
tion of 
methods of 
social con- 
trol 



538 



Principles of Education 



Rise of a new 
democratic 
culture for 
leadership 



Liberal edu- 
cation as 
prepara- 
tion for 
leadership 
in any 
vocation 



When academic conceptions begin to play a part in the re- 
construction of the methods of social control, the education of 
the school becomes again a part of the preparation for leader- 
ship. In the democratic political conditions that now appear, 
leadership is more and more felt to be a service which those of 
superior ability and education should render without regard to 
the rank in society from which they have sprung. Leadership 
becomes a vocation dependent in part upon the proper culture, 
rather than a status conferred by birth. It becomes service 
for pay, rather than exploitation by those who through conquest 
or the custom that sanctions hereditary right are enabled to 
exact what they want without reference to equivalent return 
service. 

Thus liberal education begins and ends with a utility. It 
begins in preparation for leadership, not as a profession which 
can get pay for its service, but rather as the clever art of a class, 
by means of which it retains its supremacy. Later, liberal 
education evolves into education for leisure, academic, apart 
from the world and its utilities. Still later, it gains a new 
utility, as the preparation for leadership in a democratic so- 
ciety, where such activity is recognized as a vocation. 

(5) The learning of the school does not confine itself to the 
criticism and the reconstruction of poHtical life, but it also 
brings about the exaltation of the humble vocations. It 
takes command of the human situation, and whatever it touches 
rises in importance and dignity. As a result of the body of 
learning that their practice in its higher phases comes to invplve, 
medicine, teaching in all grades of the school, engineering, 
trade, industry, art, and literature become professions. 

The professional man may be defined as the leader in a vo- 
cation, one whose preparation has involved so much material 
as to make him capable of understanding and taking part 
in the highest types of work which his vocation undertakes. 



Liberal and Vocational Education 539 

To do this he must have a mastery of the scientific foundation 
of his special work. He must have a hberal preparation for it. 
Liberal education thus becomes education for leadership, not 
merely in poHtical Hfe, but in any other activity. As poKtics 
becomes a profession, so all other vocations gain a professional 
phase. To reach the professional phase of any vocation a 
liberal education is necessary. The leaders of society come 
to include all who are preeminent in any profession that has 
been vitalized by the higher thought. The poHtical leader 
could in the past without ridicule arrogate to himself the posi- 
tion of leader and dictator in whatsoever phase of thought or 
action he chose. To-day, when leadership is seen to depend 
on professional preparation, such an attitude is regarded as the 
harmless folly of those to whom the idea of "the divine right 
of kings" is not yet obsolete. 

(6) Liberal education, as education for leadership in the Liberal edu- 
various vocations, is much or broad education. It gives that tminrn^for 
knowledge of fundamental principles which enables a treat- readjust- 
ment of the new situations with which it is the peculiar task ^ii phases 
of the leader to cope. It is education for readjustment, ra- o^'^^® 
tional education. But the demand for readjustment in modern 
life is broader than the vocation. To lead in any vocation 
one must have such knowledge as enables him to make of his 
own specialty not only an indispensable servant to society, 
but also an independent force therein. In preparing for this 
general leadership in social life, liberal education must give 
a training in the fundamental principles of social cooperation, 
the principles that underlie the life in which the vocation 
plays only a part. It must include not only training for 
leadership, but also a rationalized form of that social and 
ethical culture out of which training in leadership originally 
sprang. 

The steps in the evolution of liberal education are, then, the Summary 



540 



Principles of Education 



differentiation of culture for political leadership from the gen- 
eral social and ethical culture of the community ; the develop- 
ment from this of education for leisure ; the separation of 
academic culture from that for social control, with a coincident 
advance of the former and conservation of the latter ; the 
reconstruction of social and poHtical life through the applica- 
tion to it of the conceptions developed by the schoolmen, with 
a resulting profession of poHtical leadership, requiring as a 
preparation Hberal education ; the reconstruction of all the 
vocations through the application thereto of science, and the 
consequent development of leadership in any vocation into a 
profession, to prepare for which a hberal culture is necessary. 
Lastly, since leadership means mastery and power to readjust, 
liberal education must include training in such power, — ra- 
tional culture, broader than the vocation, and involving 
training in social cooperation. Thus liberal culture has come 
to embody all its meanings : social and ethical education, 
education for leadership, education for leisure, broad edu- 
cation. These conceptions are united in education for leader- 
ship, which, since it is preparation for a profession, has come 
to have a vocational as well as an aristocratic character. 



Aristocratic 
leadership 
not re- 
garded as 
a vocation 



Section 59. The rise of vocational training 

The ordinary notion of a vocation is that of a specialized 
occupation by which one may be able to get a living. When 
we apply this conception both to historic and to present condi- 
tions, it needs some amendment. The business of social control 
has been from time immemorial the most richly rewarded 
occupation. Yet men have not commonly held it to be a vo- 
cation, because its rewards came not as definite payment for 
a recognized service, but as the spoils of a system of exploita- 
tion. The growth of leadership into a vocation has come about 



Liberal and Vocational Education 541 

by the exaltation of the ideal of service, and by the rise of a 
democratic society in which it is coming to be felt that the only 
legitimate source of income is a service to which is attached 
a definite hire. 

Again, the business of social control early developed an The profes- 
elaborate cultural basis associated not only with its utility, ^|°" ^T , 
but also with the leisure, the academic interests of life. The from the 
existence of such a basis has caused this occupation to be dif- by its cui- 
ferentiated from other vocations. On the other hand, wher- turai basis 
ever an occupation acquired a somewhat similar foundation 
in learning or science, it rose in rank and became distinct from 
the ordinary service for pay. It became a profession the 
peculiar quality of which is found in the fact that the culture 
and the ability that it requires of those who practice it allies 
it with distinction, aristocracy, leadership. Thus, while, on 
the one hand, social control becomes a profession by acquir- 
ing the character of service that hitherto belonged to the ordi- 
nary vocations, so other vocations became professions through 
the acquisition of a cultural basis such as was at first possessed 
exclusively by the art of social control. 

The so-called learned professions, law, ministry, teaching, The learned 
and even medicine, are offshoots of the art of social control. arinvdv- 
They illustrate the earlier fields in which this art gets definitely ^g both 
into the form of a vocation. In these professions an opportu- troi and 
nity was offered for any gifted man to attain a position midway, 
as it were, between the aristocracy who control and the people 
who serve. On the one hand, the lawyer, the priest, and the 
teacher became experts in phases of that culture which had been 
in the past so important an asset for a governing class. They 
were learned in some form of the art of social control. On the 
other hand, they served for pay, and in that were differentiated 
from the genuine aristocracy. However, they prepared the 
way for the conception that social control should in all its phases 



service 



542 



Prmciples of Education 



The profes- 
sions as 
creative of 
the first 
vocational 
schools 



The decline 
of appren- 
ticeship 
and its 



be a definite service for a stipulated reward; that is, a gen- 
uine profession. 

The rise of the profession meant the advent of an elaborate 
form of vocational training by the school. But the growth of 
democracy and the reconstruction of industrial life by applied 
science have made it necessary that the school should undertake 
the preparation for vocations not intellectual enough to war- 
rant their being called professions. More and more the system 
of apprenticeship, originally adequate to prepare for such call- 
ings, has broken down, and the vocational school, which, as 
distinguished from the professional school, prepares for occu- 
pations requiring a smaller amount of training, has come to 
be a recognized part of our educational system. 

The system of apprenticeship has failed for two reasons. 
First, the organization of modern industry has left the mature 
workers in any field little opportunity or incentive to train 
apprentices. They tend to work in organized groups, rather 
than singly, and where such is the case each, instead of conduct- 
ing on his own account a business with many phases, works 
at a special task which is only part of a total business, the 
control of which lies in the hands of some captain of industry. 
Such a worker has nothing to give an apprentice to do, and no 
motive, except that of kindly interest, for offering him instruc- 
tion. Hence, the apprentice is crowded out, and the employer, 
in order to get properly prepared recruits for his service, has 
in some cases set up vocational schools. Second, the applica- 
tion of science to the arts of life has made the preparation for 
any vocation require a certain amount of such education in 
science as has never been given by apprenticeship, nor by any 
other agency than a school. Moreover, the specialized nature 
of the work of men in the vocations renders apprenticeship to 
them too narrow as experience to give an adequate preparation 
for anything except a very specific task. Such a limitation 



Liberal and Vocational Education 543 

is highly undesirable, since it makes for a lack of flexibility, 
a dependence, which it is the purpose of modern democratic 
education to avoid. 

The rise of vocational education has, therefore, been due first, Vocational 
to the reconstruction of the lower vocations and the creation due'^to'the 
of the professions by the utilization of the materials of learning reconstruc- 
and of science, and second, to the coincident gain in human vocations 
respect for service for pay. Both these advances are due to ^'^^ ^^" 

■^ _ creased re- 

the development of the higher learning, including ethics, phi- spect for 
losophy and science, and it might be proper to point out the ^'^'^'^^ 
main steps in the process by which this culture advanced to a 
position in which it was enabled to effect such ethical and 
industrial changes. 

The art of social control from which the higher culture sprang The first 
was essentially an art of controlling wills. This art was so professions 

-' ° concerned 

all-absorbing an one in early culture that not only the govern- in the con- 
ment of men, but also the dealing with nature took the form ^jyg 
of methods of influencing volition. Medicine consisted largely 
of the exorcism of evil spirits, reHgion of the propitiation of 
the supernatural powers, and science of the study of the edicts 
of the stars or the whims of nature deities. Among the leading 
minds the custom obtained of gaining their ends by commands, 
bribes, threats, punishment, suggestion, cajolery, or persuasion, 
and when they came to deal with natural forces, they fell back 
on these familiar devices, instead of hunting for those uniform 
antecedents, or causes, the production of which will by mechan- 
ical rather than teleological compulsion bring about the desired 
result. 

In connection with this art of controlling wills there grew up Traditional 
a body of tradition that was eventually committed to writing, "/their^ 
The preservation of written records is, of course, the main control 
instrumentahty by which haphazard observations are com- 
pared and generalized, the generahzations to be again tested 



544 Principles of Education 

and verified. As a result of ages of such comparison, the neces- 
sity of a scientific method is forced upon the human mind. 
This attitude comes with a prelude of skepticism, which springs 
from the recognition of the failure of the methods that tradition 
has so devotedly preserved. 
Evolution of The evolution of a rationalized practice in regard to the 
control of control of nature and men involved three stages, (i) The 
men and earlier, cruder methods of controlling wills by cunning or force 
were replaced by the more refined and ethical practice of per- 
suasion. (2) The phases of practice that involve a genuine 
appeal to volition were separated from those that involve 
merely a mastery of natural law. (3) The natural laws that 
govern volition, as well as the ethical principles that should 
control it, were studied, and social control was given a basis in 
natural science as well as in ethics. 
(i) The age (i) As society grows older its institutions tend toward a 
icai'^con-°^' Certain rationality. A government that continually resorts to 
troi. Rise coercion and subterfuge is only a short remove from anarchy. 
by persua- Stability meaus uniform law, and law that works fairly well 
in practice. Law that conforms to these requirements will 
not only be accepted, but will seem, to the majority at least, as 
reasonable. The rule of privileged classes in early civilization 
is regarded as not only inevitable, because of their power, but 
as best for society, because only thus do the lower orders get 
justice, protection from enemies, and, in general, that stable 
social condition without which the practice of their crafts is 
fruitless. Thus the successful practice of social control comes 
to mean such law as will seem to men reasonable and will 
persuade rather than coerce them into compliance. When 
once mankind has come to expect ethical government, all 
proposals for change must, if they prove effective, be made to 
agree with the general sense of right. In the conflict of inter- 
ests that history is bound to involve, there is a constant appeal 



sion and so 
by justice 



Liberal and Vocational Education 545 

by the rival parties to this underlying justice. Government 
comes to be more and more, not the art of forcing or tricking 
men to do what one wants, but rather that of discovering that 
wisest, fairest course to which they cannot fail to give their 
assent if they think. The science of social control drifts away 
from the art of domineering, and becomes the study of justice. 
A somewhat similar result springs from the accumulation of 
data concerning the therapeutics of incantations, the prayers 
for personal prosperity and the confounding of one's enemies, 
the art of divination, etc. The exposure of the futility of these 
practices leads to the view that the gods are not to be influ- 
enced by the ordinary appeals which are efficacious with men, 
but rather that they follow their own inscrutable devices. 
The reverence in which they are held causes their will inevitably 
to be regarded as the highest justice, — a justice that would 
be plainly apparent, if only one could fathom their purposes. 
"Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him." The endeavor 
to control the will of the supernatural powers resolves itself 
into an endeavor to comprehend Divine Justice, and here again 
we have the study of ethics. 

Thus the earlier tradition in regard to the devices for control- The practice 
ling wills drifts into a study of the teleology of Hfe. The idea grounded 
of the Good is, as in the system of Plato, held to explain all 
things, and to be the secret of all power. The statesman sets of final 
before mankind the ideals for which government should strive, 
and if humanity does not obey, is not influenced thereby, so 
much the worse for humanity. The physician becomes pos- 
sessed of a theory of cure, partly founded on empirical knowl- 
edge, but more largely a theory of what health is and how, in 
consequence, it should ideally be promoted. The teacher also 
feels that his duty is done when the truth is presented, and 
only to inherent evil can be ascribed the failure of the child to 
respond. The child who does not learn is held to deserve pun- 



knowledge 



causes 



546 Principles of Education 

ishment, as one whose defect is moral, not as one whose case 
is to be mastered and controlled through the principles of gen- 
etic psychology. Philosophy concerns itself with final causes, 
and science endeavors to conceive the perfect, in the confident 
assurance that from this it will be able to deduce all the facts 
of experience. 
The teieo- The tcleological age in the evolution of science is responsible 

logical age £qj. ^^^ important gain in reference to the rise of the vocation. 

enhance- It prepared the way for the elevation of the ideal of service. 

dignity of^ "^ government that aims at justice cannot fail to regard its right 

service to exist as dependent upon its service to its people. Chris- 
tianity found ethical satisfaction in a Leader who was regarded 
as essentially a Servant. The ideal of humility in doing the 
wiU of God led to the conception that the highest quaHty even ■ 
of an aristocracy was that of helping some righteous cause. 
Hence chivalry idealized the motto "I serve." To be sure, 
it was only in modern times that the taking of pay for service 
came to be regarded as other than debasing. It was necessary 
that progress in ethics should reach the point of creating de- 
mocracy before this result could be attained. For there was 
need, not only that service should be exalted, but also that 
exploitation be brought into question, and that the ground 
should thus be cut beneath the feet of any source of income 
except the pay for service, before men were reconciled to the 
view that the laborer is not in a measure disgraced by receiving 
the reward of which he is worthy. It is not meant that exploi- 
tation has by any means been put to rout, as a phase of econ- 
omic life. Yet it is certain that it has not only lost its ancient 
honor, but has come under suspicion, while service for pay 
has gained recognition as a transaction the details of which 
are so open to inspection that any injustice is likely to get the 
criticism it deserves. 

(2) The teleological age, so far as natural science was con- 



Liberal and Vocational Education 547 

cerned, received its death blow in the period of which Bacon is (2) Nature 
the philosophic representative. It was seen that the contem- ™^ a"tud - 
plation of final causes does not reveal any explanation of the of natural 
phenomena of nature upon which prediction can be based. 
Indeed, Socrates had made this discovery, and had taken it 
to mean that philosophy is of Uttle practical utility except in 
the field of ethics. However, the Renaissance advanced be- 
yond the Ancients in recognizing the tremendous value of 
scientific method in observation, generalization, and verifica- 
tion. Thus natural science began to gain results, and infused 
with new confidence, it proceeded to claim the entire realm 
of the physical. Teleology was replaced by mechanical causa- 
tion. Ultimately, the application of scientific law to practice 
began to yield extraordinary gains, and the world became 
thoroughly 4mbued with the spirit of looking to science rather 
than to ethics to find the secret by which men may gain the 
mastery of things. The effect of applied science in differentiat- 
ing into a profession the upper phases of those vocations which 
deal with the physical world and especially with mechanical 
agencies has already been indicated, as has also the correspond- 
ing reorganization of industry and the resulting need of voca- 
tional schools for even the lower grades of workers. 

(3) The study of natural causation does not cease with the (3) Social 
confines of the physical world. Psychology comes to be treated ''^^\q be 
as a natural science, and sociology and even ethics have their a matter 

11 1 ^ ^ ' n °^ natural 

facts and their natural laws, which all who would mfluence law 
man must respect. The inroads of the spirit of natural science 
into these realms, that to Socrates were the exclusive domain 
of teleology, has resulted in a reconstruction of the professions 
that concern themselves extensively with social control. 
Teaching comes to mean, not merely to know one's subject, 
but also how to present it successfully. The ministry becomes 
a service of scientific philanthropy, as well as an exhortation to 



come sa- 



548 Principles of Education 

remember and prepare for the hereafter. Even law becomes 
touched by the dawning apprehension that its justice and its 
penalties must take account of the facts of human nature. 
The legislator and the judge realize that some laws cannot 
and others will not be obeyed, that punishment should protect 
society and aim to reform the culprit, as well as to uphold the 
majesty of justice. 

In all this there is much of ethics, but there is also a consider- 
able infusion of the spirit of natural science. The learned pro- 
entific f essions are coming to require as a preparation more than learn- 
ing in traditions and an apprenticeship in promulgating the 
ideas and the practices which they represent. It is necessary 
to know human nature and society in a fairly scientific way in 
order to rationalize with an approach to adequacy the practice 
of these callings. 
Review of If One were to review the actual history of vocational instruc- 

vocationa° ^^°^' ^^ would begin with the learned professions, theology, 
schools law, teaching, and medicine. We have here the four faculties 
of the medieval university, since the faculty of philosophy 
may be said to have had in view the profession of teaching, 
as well as the purely academic aim of instructing in philosophy 
and the like. Then follows the establishment of schools for 
the military and naval professions, and for engineering in its 
various forms. Then schools for agriculture, commerce, and 
industry appear. Lastly, we are in recent years turning various 
poHtical and social services associated with government into 
professions. Thus philanthropy and the diplomatic service 
are coming to have special schools. Doubtless, shortly, 
journalism will be similarly provided for. Eventually, there is 
reason to believe that nearly all of the political offices will 
come to demand a professional preparation. The beginnings 
of this movement are to be seen in the growth of a professional 
civil service. There is no reason why the functions of govern- 



Liberal and Vocational Education 549 

ment cannot be more efficiently performed by men trained to 
this profession and enjoying a fairly permanent tenure, than by 
men elected at haphazard to hold for only a short time, provided 
the possibility of the abuse of power on their part is checked by 
proper inspection and publicity in regard to their efficiency. 

In resume, it may be noted that vocational training as given Summary 
in the school springs from the rise of vocations that demand 
school training. Such vocations arose from two sources. 
First, the art of social control grew into a number of vocations 
through the breaking off of the learned professions and the 
gradual differentiation of other phases of government into 
callings pursued by pay. This process was favored by the 
rise of democracy and the exaltation of the ideal of service. 
Second, the vocations that in earlier civilization were held as 
servile have with the application to them of scientific founda- 
tions become transformed so that one can no longer prepare 
for them by apprenticeship, but school training has become 
necessary. Moreover, those higher departments of such work 
for which an elaborate scientific foundation is required have 
come to be regarded as professions on a par with the callings 
that are concerned with social control, if, indeed, they do not 
involve a measure of the ability to manage men. The condition 
of these changes has been the development of that learning 
which was originally associated with the art of controlling wills. 
It first grew into ethics and teleological science. In this form 
it aided in the democratic reconstruction of the ideals of govern- 
ment and of service. Then there appeared a separation be- 
tween the province of teleological and that of natural science. 
Finally, natural science became applied to industry, and also to 
those psychological and social phenomena that are concerned 
in social control. Thus it became the natural foundation for 
all professions, both those which arose from the earUer servile 
vocations and those which sprang from the art of social control. 



550 



Principles of Education 



Definition of 
democracy 



Education 
the leading 
dispenser 
of oppor- 
tunities 



The laissez- 
faire ideal 
opposed to 
national 
education 



Section 6o. The function of education in a democracy 

The form of government toward which the advanced nations 
of the world seem drifting is that of democracy. The cele- 
brated definition of Lincoln, that democracy is "government 
of the people, by the people, and for the people," is, perhaps, 
the most successful characterization of this form of political 
control. The essential element in Lincoln's conception is that 
it regards government as a service which aims at promoting 
the welfare of each as much as is possible consistently with 
the welfare of all. Both from the practical and the ethical 
points of view, this service means — after once the requirements 
of public order have been met — the opening up of opportu- 
nities for individual improvement, whether material, mental, 
or moral, and the equalization of these opportunities so as to 
secure a just distribution of the advantages of social life. 

According to this conception of democracy, the part of edu- 
cation therein becomes of fundamental importance. For the 
opportunities that man in civilized conditions can get are 
largely due to the structure, pursuits, and interests of society, 
and these in turn are transmitted by social heredity or educa- 
tion. To be able to appreciate and to take advantage of the 
opportunities that society affords, one must have received the 
corresponding education. The government that endeavors 
to create or to distribute 'the opportunities that express them- 
selves as social situations must make education a fundamental 
concern. 

Although the consideration just recounted is the fundamental 
reason why democracies must educate, historically other rea- 
sons were the first to be urged. Popular government in modern 
times came under the inspiration of a longing for liberty, for 
release from the exactions and tyrannies of the absolutistic 
forms of control then prevailing. In consequence, it early 



Liberal and Vocational Education 551 

attached itself to the poUcy of laissez faire, according to which 
no justification could be found for the promotion of education 
by the state. It was the necessity, rather than the theory, 
of democracy that led to the beginnings of popular systems of 
education. In the United States, Washington, Jefferson, and, state educa- 
above all, Horace Mann, the greatest influence in the revival sendaTt?" 
and development of the common school in the nineteenth cen- seif-gov- 
tury, urged that a government by the people was impossible 
without popular education. Democracy, according to these 
men, could not survive unless it attended to the preparation 
of its citizens for the work of self-government. Horace Mann 
points out that the blind propensities of human nature are such 
that without restraint they lead to anarchy and overwhelm 
all. Democracy loosens the restraint of fear and of arbitrary 
authority. It must supply the restraint of intelligence, or 
perish by the forces that it has itself released. 

"My proposition therefore is simply this: — If republican 
institutions do wake up unexampled energies in the whole mass 
of a people, and give them implements of unexampled power 
in order to work out their will, then these same institutions 
ought also to confer upon that people unexampled wisdom and 
rectitude. If these institutions give greater scope and impulse 
to the lower order of faculties belonging to the human mind, 
then they must also give more authoritative control and more 
skillful guidance to the higher ones. If they multiply tempta- 
tions, they must also fortify against them. If they quicken 
the activity and enlarge the sphere of the appetites and pas- 
sions, they must, at least in an equal ratio, estabhsh the author- 
ity and extend the jurisdiction of reason and conscience. In 
a word, we must not add to the impulsive, without also adding 
to the regulative forces." ^ 

The only regulative force adequate to this task is, in the opin- 
ion of Horace Mann, education. Here, then, we find a justi- 
1 Necessity of Education in a Republican Government. 



552 



Prmciples of Education 



Higher edu- 
cation as 
a cure for 
political 
corrup- 
tion 



Contention 
that edu- 
cation fa- 
vors crime 



fication for the abandonment of the policy of laissez /aire. 
The government must strive to preserve itself, and the only 
efficient way of doing so is to provide for education, and, in- 
deed, to make it compulsory. 

A similar argument has in modern times frequently been 
advanced to defend higher education. It has been supposed 
that the salvation of the nation might be found in the ideals 
of those who are graduated from her secondary schools and 
colleges. In them it is hoped that we may obtain poUtical 
leaders whose notion of service is not "graft," but rather the 
welfare of the body politic. President Butler,^ for example, 
finds in education a means by which public service may be 
rescued from the grip of the spoilsman, and given over to the 
efficient. 

It will be noticed that both these views attribute to educa- 
tion the function of moral culture. Indeed, it is evident that 
the moral phase of education is emphasized more than the 
intellectual one. There are, however, those who would main- 
tain that the education of the modem school, instead of promot- 
ing the moral Hfe, has in fact tended to destroy it. For ex- 
ample, in the last decade of the nineteenth century a number 
of prominent review writers brought out the idea that the 
statistics of crime show an increase in those countries in which 
popular systems of education had recently been built up. 
Such a result, they maintained, might have been expected, 
for education rouses the discontent of the needy and sharpens 
the wits of the knave, thus provoking crime and equipping 
with means for its more successful prosecution.^ 

The statistics by which these notions were supported have 
been shown to have been misinterpreted, where they were not 



^ Democracy and Education. 

^ This controversy is summarized in Report of Commissioner of Education 
of the United States, 1898-1899, Ch. XXVIII. 



Liberal and Vocational Education 553 

positively erroneous. The apparent increase in crime was in 
most cases due to more accurate and complete records of the 
arrests made, or to the greater efficiency of the officers of the 
law in apprehending criminals, or to legislative enactments 
by which acts hitherto not crimes were made such. On the 
whole, it seems likely that increase in education means a 
decrease in crime. 

Nevertheless, it is evident that our system of education, in Need of more 
avoiding the reHgious, has also neglected the moral for the sake t"morai^ 
of the intellectual. Against this deficiency the last decade has education 
seen a vigorous revolt. That the cultivation of the ethical 
ideals and the practice of devotion to the public service should 
be a fundamental aim of the school, there can be no doubt, 
and we shall probably see in a few years a reconstruction of 
the program of instruction in order to accomplish more effi- 
ciently this function. Meanwhile, it should be noted that 
intellectual culture may have a profound reaction upon pubKc 
affairs, leading to a purification from control by blind passion 
or by unscrupulous greed. 

The nature of this reaction is found in the regulating effects inteUectuai 
of a cultivation both of shrewdness and of prudence. A nation making for 
of intelligent men will not permit the spoilsman to govern, be- the morai- 

• 1 • 1- 1 1 1 f ity of pru- 

cause it is evidently not m the mterest of the body of voters dence 
that such a condition should prevail. The pursuit of private 
ends ultimately brings many, if not most, men across the trail 
of the politician, and if this personage be not more clever than 
his constituents, his perquisites will eventually be plucked 
away by those upon whom they have surreptitiously been 
levied. Thus shrewd self-interest in each is the parent of a 
fair amount of enforced rectitude in all. Honesty is made to 
be the best policy, and a prudential morality helps to promote 
the public good. 
One cannot for a moment contend that such a regime of 



554 Principles of Education 

shrewdness and prudence is a satisfactory substitute for genuine 
moral interest in the welfare of the community. Nevertheless, 
it is undoubtedly indispensable to a democratic state, not only 
that the people should be morally well disposed, but also that 
they should be keenly alive to the effects of public acts or 
negligences and to the efficiency of pubhc servants. That our 
national education can be improved as an agency for moral 
culture does not mean that its intellectual training has not been 
and will not continue to be of fundamental importance in foster- 
ing public as well as private welfare. This mental training, 
without which moral culture would be inadequate to suppress 
either the propensities of the citizen or the cupidity of the 
professional politician, contributes also to another aim of 
democracy, the equalizing of opportunities. This third pur- 
pose is, as has been contended, even more fundamental than 
the others. 
Democracy a The laws of nature, particularly of human nature, make this 
aS?Ahe ^^^^ especially difficult. The efficiency of some as contrasted 
natural with others is bound continually to be capitalized in such 
ward aris- fomis as to increase their original advantage. ''To him that 
tocracy \\3A}a. shall be given." Nature tends toward differentiation, 
aristocracy. Nature creates the aristocracy of the organic 
world, with man as the lord of all. The moral sense of man 
has, however, created society at the expense of the greatest 
of differentiating agencies, the principle of natural selection. 
If nature makes aristocracy, man makes democracy. Society, 
religion, Christianity, — all these are but stages toward that 
goal of the moral sense, the brotherhood of man, the exact 
nature of which is, doubtless, as yet very imperfectly compre- 
hended. But democracy continually encounters the natural 
drift toward differentiation and aristocracy. Prestige, prop- 
erty, and family solidarity give advantages to some which 
they do not, from the ethical point of view, deserve. These 



Liberal and Vocational Education 



555 



warfare on 
the "un- 
earned in- 
crement" 
of prestige, 
property, 
and culture 



advantages are a sort of "unearned increment." Prestige 
makes the commonplaces of certain men seem more wise 
than the profound insights of others. The rich can easily 
make an amount of money utterly beyond the power of poor 
men of similar talent. The handicap of a better family gives 
its possessor an advantage that cannot be overcome by the 
humbly born, except he possesses extraordinary ability. 

Democracy continually wars against this ''unearned incre- 
ment." But it is quite as continually compelled to question 
the possibility, even the desirability of success in this struggle. Democracy a 
It cannot destroy prestige. Perhaps it ought not to do so, 
for prestige helps men to single out those from whom they 
may expect good results. It should not destroy property, 
because property is not only a just reward for deserts, but also 
an invaluable incentive to endeavor. Least of all, should 
democracy interfere, after the fashion recommended by Plato, 
with that family inheritance of culture which stimulates so 
large a measure of the self-sacrifice among men. On the other 
hand, we are constantly robbing prestige of that permanent 
value which causes it to tyrannize over human judgment. 
More and more does society compel the later work of its heroes 
to submit to the same tests as have their earlier successes. 
Prestige continues to secure attention, but it is no longer so 
certain as of yore to compel acceptance. Again, as far as 
economic conditions are concerned, the United States early 
abandoned the practice of laissez faire, and entered upon a 
policy of endeavoring to create new opportunities. New 
territory was acquired to offer a foothold to those who had not 
acquired property within the existing limits of the country. 
Internal improvements, the subsidizing of railroads, the pro- 
tective tariff, the post office and the like are examples of the 
methods by which the nation has endeavored to develop new 
conditions in which the handicap of those who have established 



55^ Principles of Educatio7i 

a grip upon the prevailing opportunities shall not work so con- 
clusively to the disadvantage of such as from chance or ineffi- 
ciency, either in themselves or in their parents, have been left 
among the unprosperous. 
Necessity of Democracy has even done something to interfere with the 
theTamUy handicaps that spring from family solidarity. The agitation 
inheritance for laws that shall limit the amount of wealth that can be 
handed on from an individual to his heirs, and the actual 
enactment of considerable legislation in that direction indicate 
the ideals and the temper of the time. Such methods are dif- 
ficult to employ, because they are negative. They do not cre- 
ate opportunities, but take away advantages. They could not 
be employed in reference to the inheritance of culture, for it 
would be impossible either in fact or in ethics to limit the zeal 
of the parent in furthering the welfare of the child through 
education. On the other hand, the positive method of creating 
opportunities seems here peculiarly appropriate. The state 
can offer through the school an education the excellence of 
which will go far toward swamping out the advantages in train- 
ing that spring from fortunate parentage. Indeed, here in 
education democracy finds its principal agency for equaliz- 
ing the opportunities of the young. 
Reasons why Several reasons conspire to cause education to outrank in 
k^"the'best ^^^^ "^ Other ageucics for creating and equalizing oppor- 
agency for tunitics. First of all, public education does not take away 
opportuni- from somc, — except in taxes for its support, — to give to 
'^^^ others, but gives freely and equally to all. Second, it gives 

only to those who are capable and willing to make the effort 
to obtain it, thus satisfying the ethical sense of the scientific 
philanthropist, who fears the pauperizing effect of gifts. Third, 
it gives to the young, destroying in a measure the inequalities 
of the parentage for which they are not responsible. Fourth, 
education, unlike governmental efforts to open up material 



Liberal and Vocational Education 557 

resources to the exploitation of the enterprising, does not give 
something easily to be monopolized by clever, scheming men, 
thus proving a source of private gain rather than of public 
benefit. Indeed, too frequently new material resources, instead 
of turning out to be the opportunity of the needy, have been 
seized upon by those whose business resources gave them a 
handicap. Thus they so far failed to equahze opportunities 
that they actually exaggerated the advantage of those whose 
fortunes were already in the ascendant. Fifth, education 
increases the efl&ciency of the service of the individual, and this 
factor is in economic history continually coming to have a 
greater relative value than wealth. The individual who pos- 
sesses little or no capital, but whose services are valuable, is 
thus as time goes on more likely to be in a better economic 
position than one with considerable wealth but little individual 
efficiency. With the increase in productive power brought 
about by modern economic progress, wealth can be produced 
far more quickly and easily. The effort even of unskilled labor 
thus grows more valuable as compared with the value of the 
product. But if this be true of untrained and inferior service, 
how much more true is it of that which is trained and superior ! 
Education, in increasing the value of service, is thus deter- 
mining the factor which will more and more dominate the eco- 
nomic relations of men. The leaders in business, as in every 
other department of life, are coming to be those whose service 
is most effective, rather than those whose wealth is greatest. 
Thus the test of efficiency in the vocation, instead of that of 
ancestry or material resources or any other form of status which 
does not involve individual service, becomes the basis for 
determining who shall direct human affairs and be held in 
corresponding honor. 

Here we may recur to the conception, advanced in the early 
part of the present section, that, since the opportunities of 



558 



Principles of Education 



Education as 
a means of 
fostering 
the demo- 
cratic 
temper 



to-day are largely dependent on social heredity, so the effi- 
ciencies upon which the utilization of these opportunities de- 
pend are in like degree furthered by education. Hence, if 
we would create and equalize opportunities, we must create 
and equahze educational advantages. Herein lies unquestion- 
ably the fundamental function of education in a democracy. 
The public school is not only necessary to insure a government 
oj the people, by fostering the control of those dangerous human 
propensities to which popular government gives so free a rein, 
and hy the people^ by routing the demagogue and the spoilsman, 
but it is also an indispensable agency to bring about that just 
distribution of the means of human welfare which constitutes 
the meaning of government jor the people. 

There is still a fourth function of education in a democracy 
which deserves mention. It is the most valuable of agencies 
for preserving the democratic temper. As democracy means 
leadership through individual service, and not because of 
wealth, hereditary rank, or accident of fortune, so it must con- 
tinually war against the natural tendency for power and privi- 
lege to drift to castes. To keep up this warfare the spirit of 
hostility to special privileges must be kept alive. Democratic 
government should not foster class hatred, because it should 
foster no classes to hate and be hated. Like any form of 
government, it needs leaders, but, if these are selected for ser- 
vice rather than because of status, they do not constitute a 
caste. A caste is composed of men who cannot because of 
their own acts rise above or fall below their station in life. 
Such leadership and such servility democracy rightly abhors, 
and a hatred of them is not a hatred of classes, but a hostility 
to the tendency to form them, which is as essential to the 
preservation of democracy as is breath to Hfe. This hostility 
education breeds. It teaches men the nature and functions 
of society, and, therefore, puts them in a position to criticize 



Liberal and Vocational Education 559 

abuses. It enables them to get a fairly correct estimate of the 
capacities of those who lead, and a proper judgment of the work 
in life that they themselves are best fitted to do. It creates 
a self-respect that makes men as unwilling to be governed by 
shams or by pretense as by the naked tyranny of force. Like 
many other good things the discontent created by education 
may be a great evil. When it is the discontent of envy, of 
half-awakened ignorance, it is, indeed, to be feared by any 
form of government. But the remedy for the evils of education 
is more education, and an efficient system of schools ought to 
insure a democracy against any serious discontent except that 
which provokes the individual to do his best, and to resent any 
tendencies which interfere with the freedom of opportunity 
for each to perform for society the service for which he is best 
fitted and to gain just recognition and reward. 

To education we may, then, ascribe four main uses for demo- Summary 
cratic government. It teaches people to govern themselves, 
it tends to destroy corruption and inefficiency in public service, 
it makes for equality of opportunity, and it creates the spirit 
that is discontented with any condition where such justice 
does not prevail. The two first functions are distinctly moral 
in character, and they imply that democratic education should 
not neglect, but rather emphasize, the moral element in the 
curriculum. However, even intellectual education can scarcely 
fail to cultivate a prudential morahty that must make for just 
and efficient government. The function of equalizing oppor- 
tunities is the most important of the uses of education in a 
democracy. Without such equality the "unearned incre- 
ments," that prestige, property, and family solidarity inevitably 
involve, will result in the differentiation of society into castes. 
Education, by equalizing the opportunities for culture, af- 
fects that capacity for service which is coming to be the most 
important basis for differentiating men. It is at once the 



560 Principles of Education 

simplest, the fairest, and the most effective instrument for pre- 
serving that equality without which democracy is impossible. 

Section 61. The ideal of education in a democracy 

If, then, education is not only indispensable to the preserva- 
tion of democracy, but is also the principal agency of such a 
government in rendering its characteristic service to its people, 
what are the requisite elements in the training that it should 
provide ? We may say at once, in view of our earlier discus- 
sions, that no education provides equal opportunities that does 
not train efficiently for whatever vocation the individual is by 
nature fitted to enter, provided society has a use for such a 
vocation. As the ideal of democracy implies that each one 
should render a service to the community which entitles him 
to a specific rating and reward, so the ideal education in such 
a government is one that aims to open up all vocations to a 
free competition where talent, industry, and character are the 
determining selective forces. 
Democratic We havc sketched such a scheme of education in discussing 
shouwTead ^^^ function of the school. According to the position there 
into a vo- taken, all children should pass through the stages, not only of 
elementary, but also of secondary and higher education. In 
the secondary school the pupil should "find himself"; that 
is, discover his vocation. In the higher school he should pre- 
pare for his calling. By a continuous process of differentiating 
selection pupils should be drafted out of the ranks of the second- 
ary school to enter vocational schools that prepare for occu- 
pations which require little more than manual skill, to enter 
schools preparing for intermediate positions in the various 
walks of life, or to take that professional training which will 
adapt its graduates to positions of leadership. 

Education in a democracy should provide all these oppor- 



cation 



Liberal a^td Vocational Education 561 

tunities so freely that no child shall be shut out from his proper Vocational 
calling because of poverty or the incompetence of his parents, ^f "^^^ ^^^^^ 
It should not only provide these opportunities, but also, as we should be 

, . . , , . . within the 

have seen, msist that, up to the age when a satisfactory test reach of all 
of the child's aptitudes may be supposed to have been made, 
they should have been utilized as effectively as compulsory 
attendance can make possible. The higher professional train- 
ing will depend upon the energy and the ability of the student, 
but it should be as freely offered as a just apportionment of 
available public funds permits. A system that charges high 
tuitions for professional training, on the ground that the stu- 
dent is here getting some pecuniary advantages for which he 
should pay, inevitably tends to shut out certain individuals 
from equality of educational opportunity. The child of pov- 
erty may by extraordinary efforts put himself on a footing that 
his more fortunate competitor enjoys as a gift, but the handi- 
cap is neither democratic nor just. That hard labor and sacri- 
fices bring their reward of character is true, but this should 
not blind us to the fact that poverty and the lack of parental 
insight or responsibihty may often render, not only the best 
education, but even any higher education impossible. 

Assuming, then, that democratic education should provide, phases of 
so far as possible, equal opportunity for all in respect to voca- J^^^^^^eci 
tional training, what are its obhgations in the matter of liberal sary to a 
training ? According to the account that has been given of the education *" 
evolution of liberal education, we may proceed to analyze it 
into three parts, each of which should, doubtless, be represented 
in a truly democratic training. These are (i) education for 
flexibility; (2) education for social cooperation; and (3) edu- 
cation for leisure. 

(i) By education for flexibiHty is meant such training as 
makes for ready readjustment. It is the education of the rea- 
son. Such culture is important in modern society, because of 



562 



Principles of Education 



(i^ Desira- 
bility of 
universal 
education 
for adapta- 
bility 



Possibility of 
training in 
power to 
readjust 



the rapid changes in the modes of living and of gaining a liveli- 
hood that spring from a conscious endeavor at betterment. 
It is especially important in a democracy, in order to insure as 
large a distribution as possible, not only of the power to initiate 
new conditions, but above all, of the ability to take advantage 
of them or, at least, become adapted to them. The mass of 
the mechanical workers are usually opposed to new methods, 
both because these methods save labor, thus, for a time at 
least, throwing some out of work, and because they involve 
readjustments to new tasks and the acquisition of new types of 
skill, — processes that to the lower order of intellect and culture 
are difficult, if not impossible. Such opposition could be re- 
moved if education could give to the people who are Hkely to 
display it flexibility. There is much evidence that men 
accustomed to the constant improvement of methods grow 
able, not only to survive them, but even to initiate and to profit 
by them. If the thing be possible, democratic government 
unquestionably owes it to the people to cultivate their power 
of readjustment, and thus to lighten the evils of the progress 
which it encourages. 

But it may be said that we have here an inherent defect of 
the inferior mind, which no education, however democratic, 
can hope to remedy, any more than we can by legislation make 
equal men whom nature created different. While this proposi- 
tion is largely true, nevertheless, education can probably do 
much to increase adjustabihty, even among inferior minds. 
It will be mere repetition to discuss here the essential elements 
in the education of reason. Suffice it to note that the education 
which will do most to cultivate flexibility is one that does not 
content itself with facts and methods, but insists on reaching 
principles, one that is continually compelling the utilization of 
resources already learned by presenting problems involving 
them, and one that invokes a variety of situations resembling 



Liberal and Vocational Education 



563 



those of life, wherein the pupil is compelled to exercise his 
powers of analysis and judgment. It is hard to take part in 
the activities of a rational and progressive world without catch- 
ing at least a modicum of its spirit and power. Such a world 
the modern school is striving to become. 

Flexibility is, of course, the most extraordinary attribute of 
the leader. The endeavor to cultivate such a trait means, 
therefore, training in leadership. In a democracy it is implied 
that each possesses some of this power, some capacity to take 
part in the poHtical, social, and industrial hfe as an independent 
and, indeed, a dominating agent. The school that studies its 
pupils will especially cultivate leadership along those lines in 
which the special aptitudes of each pupil lies. Thus flexibility 
appears most clearly in the field of one's vocation, and depends 
on the extent to which it is mastered. 

On the other hand, the mastery of a vocation means the 
mastery of the social and physical conditions which that voca- 
tion serves. Thus training for leadership implies broad train- 
ing. The leaders in any field are those who are most thoroughly 
acquainted with the human needs to meet which this field 
exists. Hence, as vocational training advances to greater pro- 
fessional skill, it inevitably broadens into greater liberality. 
If education, in its zeal to make the specialist, forgets the prob- 
lem of the adaptation of his vocation to the needs of human life 
generally, it is, indeed, neglecting flexibility, and, at the same 
time, mastery. No man knows a vocation unless he knows its 
value, and the knowledge of uses and values must be added to 
that of causes and principles, if one is to be master of his busi- 
ness rather than to have a business that is master of him. 

(2) Thus flexibility may be said to be the aim of the highest 
and most liberal aspect of vocational training. It is that which 
liberalizes the vocation, making it masterful and free. It 
leads directly into the social environment, in which the demand 



Such train- 
ing should 
be espe- 
cially 
adapted 
(a) to de- 
velop mas- 
tery of a 
specialty 
and 



(6) to de- 
velop skill 
in relating 
the spe- 
cialty to 
life 



564 



Principles of Education 



(2) Need in 
a democ- 
racy of 
education 
for social 
coopera- 
tion 



Aims of edu- 
cation for 
social co- 
operation 



for the vocation is found. It is, therefore, closely allied to the 
second, the humanistic phase of liberal culture; that is, edu- 
cation for social cooperation. Such culture includes moral, 
political, and religious education, in addition to training in 
manners and to familiarizing with the current interests of 
society and the practices connected therewith. It is necessary 
to the equipment of those who would get on in a world where 
men work directly for society and only indirectly for themselves. 

In a democracy education for social cooperation assumes for 
all the importance which in aristocratic government it has for 
the ruling class. There is a natural though unjustifiable 
assumption that in a free government the pubhc interest can 
take care of itself. Since aristocracies govern so largely to 
exploit, it has been hard to establish the ideal of public ofiice 
for service. To the masses the opportunity to take part in 
political life has often appealed as only a chance to share in the 
''graft" of leadership, to make money. If we are all to be 
governed in the interest of exploitation, it is better to be under 
an aristocracy, whose incomes and positions are so permanent 
and sure that they can afford to attend to the interests of the 
governed, rather than by a horde of adventurers to whom 
the temporary enjoyment of ofl&ce is regarded as a means of 
getting rich quick. 

Education for social cooperation should aim at three things: 
(a) to create an appreciation of the interdependence of the 
individual and society, so that each shall find in the interests 
and in the welfare of the whole the basis for his own interests 
end welfare; (6) to create the ideal that "pubhc office is a public 
trust," that is, that, hke any other vocation, it is an oppor- 
tunity to serve society for a stipulated reward ; (c) to create the 
spirit of independence, of initiative, and of leadership in matters 
that concern the public tastes and welfare. As contributory 
to all this, there should be training in moral ideals, training 



Liberal and Vocational Education 565 

in tact, training in methods of social cooperation, study in the 
humanities that broaden one's comprehension of human nature 
and of human issues, and study of the sciences that reveal the 
laws of individual and social action. Such a program is, of 
course, a constantly expanding one, but it is certain that no 
grade of intellect should fail to receive what it can of this sort 
of education, and, hence, that in no stage of instruction should 
it be without liberal representation. 

Among the agencies for this sort of training, play and the Use of the 
independent student activities are of fundamental importance, su^^edu- 
The educational value of the game lies in that it leads into cation 
social cooperation and the avocations. To the playful activi- 
ties of the student, the humanistic studies should be made 
subsidiary, having the function of contributing to these fairly 
independent pursuits of the school the intellectual foundation 
by which they gain meaning and permanence. 

The higher schools of the democracy have been adapted from Lack of social 
the schools of the aristocracy, and they have preserved the oi^'°schooi" 
antique program of studies, but have neglected the social life 
that centered about this. Thus that which was rapidly becom- 
ing the less valuable factor of the older schools was especially 
cared for in the newer ones. On the other hand, democratic 
education has of necessity stressed more and more the voca- 
tional factor. Combining the two tendencies, our schools 
have concerned themselves in giving the things that are neces- 
sary in order to get a living, together with certain "hall-marks" 
of learning, instead of becoming centers of free and active social 
life. The time has come, not only for a renaissance of moral 
and religious culture, but also for the active development of 
the social Hfe of the school. In this we may find a means of 
cultivating both the aristocratic virtues, including the capacity 
to lead, and those traits that serve as a foundation for the 
liberal intercourse of a democracy. 



566 



Principles of Education 



(3) Demo- 
cratic edu- 
cation 
involves 
education 
for leisure 



Rise of uni- 
versal lei- 
sure in 
democratic 
Ufe 



Tendency to 
abuse 
leisure 



(3) Education in social cooperation reaches out into educa- 
tion for leisure, — education which, like play, is founded on a 
love of activity for its own sake. The classes upon whom 
democracy has thrust the burdens of government have been in 
the past quite as free from leisure as from leadership. They 
are being forced by the exigencies of the new poHtical life to 
learn what the public duties of a citizen of a republic are. 
They will also be compelled by the growth of leisure to learn 
how this may most worthily be employed. 

The development of the conception that to have no vocation 
is unworthy is no more characteristic of a democracy than is 
the rise of the notion that all should have a certain amount of 
leisure. The vacation is quite as typical of to-day as is the 
"strenuous life." The eight-hour law and the Sabbatical year, 
the summer outing and shorter business hours, are all, doubt- 
less, symptomatic of a time when the program of life for the 
general pubKc will contain a very considerable amount of time 
that can be devoted to avocations. The greater effectiveness 
of modern means of production, — a condition that, doubtless, 
tends to produce the illusion of strenuousness, where in reaUty 
little if any more energy or time is used than when life seemed 
slower, — constitutes the most important cause of the growth 
of leisure in recent times. Moreover, a tendency to system- 
atize life, which is associated with the growth of very compli- 
cated business systems, results in specific and prearranged 
periods of relief from work rather than irregular ones. 

The growth of leisure brings with it problems of considerable 
importance and difficulty. In general, it may be said that both 
irregular and newly gained leisure tend to be abused. Men 
whose lives are absorbed in the vocation are prone to look upon 
time spent away from it as properly to be given to amusement. 
But mere amusement, even when it is genuinely recreative, 
represents after all the least of the uses of leisure. For leisure 



Liberal aiid Vocational EdMcation 567 

is the parent of the arts and the sciences, and these are the 
parents of the higher civiHzation. What leisure has done for 
the race, it may also do for the individual. When properly- 
employed, it is the most important source of personal growth. 
When improperly employed, it is the creator of idleness and 
vice, incompetence and degeneracy. Eight-hour laws may be, 
as President Eliot suggests, a positive harm. If they merely 
furnish a better chance to get drunk, they are a curse rather 
than a blessing. 

Now in order that leisure may be employed in ways that are Need of cui- 
not only harmless but also contribute to human betterment, usroHei-^ 
the child needs a culture looking toward the development of sure 
interests and capacities that will afford a fruitful as well as an 
agreeable use of whatever free time the fortunes of Hfe may 
place at his disposal. It has already been noted that children 
need to be taught to play. The free intercourse of men in 
society, their athletic sports, their social entertainments, their 
intellectual and artistic diversions, all need to be determined 
by taste and a sense of relative value for the total aim of Hving. 
In order that this may be the case, the child should be led to 
expect from sport something more than amusement, and to feel 
uncomfortable unless he gets it. The study of the humanities, 
of the arts and the sciences should continually react upon the 
judgment as to what pursuits are most desirable for leisure. In 
order that this result may be brought about, the independent 
activities of the school, from which the social occupations of 
leisure take their origin, should constantly be affected by the 
school studies, and should affect them in turn. 

When we reflect upon the occupations of leisure in the United Tendency of 
States, we are struck not only with their diversity and the aim- {io^sTthe 
lessness of many, but also with the fact that their general char- United ^^ 
acter tends toward the better. The growth of travel, the grad- Ir^^^ov^ in 
ual disappearance of gambling and mere " sporting," and of the q^^^i'ty 



568 Principles of Educatio7i 

more brutal athletic sports, the development of the distinction 
between the amateur and the professional in sport, and the 
constant reaction of the ideals of the former upon the practices 
of the latter, the growth of interest and of taste in the drama 
and in music, the rise of art, the establishment of museums 
of all sorts, the spread of libraries and of reading, the growth 
of club life that more and more represents culture and public 
service as well as mere entertainment, the development of a 
great system of parks, from those preserving the wild grandeur 
of the mountain to such as are the breathing places of the city, 
the creation of playgrounds, gymnasiums, and baths, the ap- 
pearance of such societies as the Young Men's Christian Asso- 
ciation, all these and many other changes mark the introduction 
of an epoch when the art of spending one's time nobly will not 
be confined to a privileged class. Many of the new attractions 
are, in the fashion of the day, condemned as degeneracy, 
whereas as a matter of fact they represent merely the forms 
which the higher intellectual, social, and artistic life takes 
The democ- when it Spreads to the masses. The newspapers, with their 
ratizmg of gcnsations and their somewhat cheap science and art, the popu- 

culture and ^ 7 sr r 

the vulgar- lar novcl, the commonplace drama, are the product of the de- 
taste ° mocratization of culture, bringing with it, on the one hand, an 
enormous demand for cultural products, and, on the other, 
vulgarizing to some extent the standards of taste. 
Democratic Nevertheless, we may hope that the democratization of 
as^a^basL culturc vulgarizes standards only to elevate them, and that the 
for ad- overproduction of culture material will work, as overproduction 
the higher usually does, to produce variety, to enable selection, and thus 
culture ^Q promote progress. This modern movement may not only 
extend the higher enjoyments of leisure to the masses, but in 
the long run may bring forward new excellences. It is not at 
all unlikely that the further growth of the arts of leisure depends 
very considerably upon their ceasing to be the exclusive prop- 



Liberal and Vocational Education 569 

erty of a privileged class. Certain it is that the ideals, the 
interests, and the needs of Ufe of the democracy have con- 
tributed to the creators of science, art, ethical ideals, and the 
form of social intercourse an extraordinary amount of inspira- 
tion and of new material. 

The work of selecting this material and of purifying and Need that 
exalting popular taste must be done very largely by the school. shouW^°°* 
The popular education of the nineteenth century was respons- purify cul- 
ible in great measure for the democratization of culture. The 
popular education of the twentieth century should strive toward 
its purification. After creation comes selection, after origin- 
ality arises taste, and judgment should be the successor of 
imagination. While the creative forces of democratic life, 
far from having spent their force, have in reality only begun 
to evince their possibihties, nevertheless, it is high time for the 
selective agencies to be set in motion more vigorously. The 
salvation of the creative work of the future lies in the guidance 
of the critical work of to-day. 

Thus education in a democracy means a vocational training Summary 
for each and liberal culture for all. So far as liberal culture is 
concerned, it means, first of all, that training which will ensure 
to each as much flexibihty, or power of readjustment, as his 
native endowment permits. Thus he is given his largest pos- 
sible measure of mastery over his vocation, of leadership in it, 
and of power to correlate it with the mass of activities of social 
Ufe. The highest training in the vocation leads inevitably 
beyond the vocation. It leads first into those sciences which 
give principles that underlie not only the one, but also very 
many vocations. It leads further into social knowledge, 
judgment, and skill, without which effectiveness in the vocation 
as well as general participation in the common institutional 
activities of society is impossible. Lastly, it leads into those 
phases of culture that have been and still are pursued primarily 



570 Principles of Education 

for their own sake, because not only the general organization 
and the ideals of society, but also the character of the vocations 
of men, are continually modified and recreated by this culture. 
Liberal education cannot, therefore, be separated from the 
vocation. It finds what is, perhaps, its most important func- 
tion in liberalizing the calling, exalting it, making it masterful 
and noble. It can stamp out the disease of mere commercial- 
ism, and substitute the health of public service that is worthy 
of its reward. On the other hand, it needs the vocation to 
save it from vagaries, eccentricities, and trivialities, to preserve 
for it a sense of relative values, and to bring it into that integral 
relation with life through which alone the products of men can 
survive. For life has many aims, and in the long run each 
exacts its appropriate service. 



BIBLIOGRAPHY 

(The references given in the footnotes will suggest a large amount of 
collateral reading. The following bibliography repeats many of these. 
There are, however, some additions, and in general the list is intended 
to include such references as might constitute a working basis for a study 
of the various topics considered in the text. The aim has been to give at 
most only a few references on each large topic considered.) 

Section i. For a statement of various historic aims of education, 
Monroe, Text Book in ilie History of Education. For modern idealistic 
statements of the aim of education, Rosenkranz, Philosophy of Education, 
Part I ; Harris, Psychologic Foundations of Education, Ch. XXXVI. 

Section 2. For modern statements of the aim of efficiency, Spencer, 
Education; Butler, The Meaning of Education; Dewey, Ethical Prin- 
ciples Underlying Education ; O'Shea, Education as Adjustment, Part II ; 
Bagley, The Educative Process, Ch. Ill ; EUot, Education for Efficiency; 
Riidiger, The Principles of Education, Chs. III-V. Efficiency is given a 
somewhat ideaHstic statement by Home, Philosophy of Education, Ch. 
VII. 

Section 3. For a discussion of the mechanism of life, Loeb, Dynamics 
of Living Matter; Morgan, Evolution and Adaptation, Ch. IX ; Verworn, 
General Physiology. VitaUsm is dealt with in the latter reference, pp. 
41-46. Teleology as contrasted with mechanism in hving beings is well 
treated by Ward, Naturalism and Agnosticism, Part II, especially Lectures 
IX and X; Fullerton, Metaphysics, Chs. XV and X\T[ ; Harris, Psy- 
chologic Foundations of Education, Chs. XX and XXI ; Pearson, Grammar 
of Science, Ch. IX. 

Section 4. For a discussion of geologic changes that have affected Hfe 
consult the historical part of any standard geology, as those of LeConte 
or Dana. Chamberlain and Salisbury, Geology, Ch. XI, show how 
geologic conditions of hfe are affected by the products of hving beings 
themselves. For reactions to representative stimuU, Jennings, Behavior 
of the Lower Organisms, pp. 296-298. For higher environments, Kirk- 
patrick, Genetic Psychology, pp. 354-367 ; Swift, Mind in the Making, 
Ch. X ; Calderwood, Evolution and Man's Place in Nature; Lankester, 

571 



572 Principles of Educatio7t 

The Kingdom of Man. For the variability of man's environment, Fiske, 
Outlines of Cosmic Philosophy, Vol. II, Chs. XX and XXI ; Spencer, 
Principles of Biology, Part I, Chs. IV- VI. 

Section 5. For growth as producing lack of adjustment, Minot, Age, 
Growth, and Death; Spencer, Principles of Biology, Part II, Chs. I-V ; 
Bagley, The Educative Process, Ch. XXIII. For the effects of habit, 
James, Principles of Psychology, Ch. IV ; Halleck, Education of the Central 
Nervous System, Chs. II and VI. For economic and social illustrations of 
growth toward maladjustment, Mai thus. Law of Population; Giddings, 
Democracy and Empire, Ch. V, The Costs of Progress. 

Section 6. For the function of reproduction and Hfe cycles Geddes 
and Thompson, The Evolution of Sex; Jordan and Kellogg, Evolution and 
Animal Life, Chs. XII and XVI. For various kinds of adaptations, 
Morgan, Evolution and Adaptation, Chs. I and X-XII. 

Section 7. For the utiUty of a period of infancy, Fiske, The Meaning 
of Infancy; Butler, The Meaning of Education; Chamberlain, The Child, 
A Study in the Evolution of Man, Ch. I ; Kirkpatrick, Fundamentals of 
Child Study, Ch. I. For imperfect and deferred instincts, James, Prin- 
ciples of Psychology, Ch. XXIV ; Kirkpatrick, Fundamentals of Child 
Study, Ch. III. For the nervous mechanism of higher vertebrates and of 
infants, Donaldson, The Growth of the Brain; Kirkpatrick, Genetic Psy- 
chology, Chs. II and VI; Loeb, Comparative Physiology of the Brain and 
Comparative Psychology; Swift, Mind in the Making, Ch. VII. 

Section 8. For the utility of not inheriting acquired characters, James, 
Principles of Psychology, Ch. XXVIII ; Ball, Are the Ejects of Use In- 
herited? For a resume of the evidence as to such inheritance, Wallace, 
Darwinism, Ch. XIV ; Thompson, Heredity, Ch. VII. For various 
theories concerning the origin and character of variation, Kellogg, Dar- 
winism To-day, Chs. VIII-XI. For the theory of organic selection, 
Baldwin, Development and Evolution. 

Section 9. For the part of heredity in furnishing the basis for educa- 
tion, Jennings, Behavior of the Lower Organisms, Chs. X\T and XVII ; 
Kirkpatrick, Genetic Psychology, Ch. V ; Hobhouse, Mind in Evolution, 
Chs. IV and V. The extent of hereditary influence is well brought out by 
Thorndike, Educational Psychology, Chs. V and VI ; Thorndike, Measure- 
ments of Twins, Ch. I, and Conclusion. Other well-known studies of hered- 
ity are Galton, Hereditary Genius; Woods, Mental and Moral Heredity in 
Royalty ; Dugdale, The Jukes. 

Section 10. For the conception of social heredity, Baldwin, Menial 



Bibliography 573 

Development, Social and Ethical Interpretations, Ch. II; Patten, The 
New Basis of Civilization, Ch. II. For the rise of social heredity, Gid- 
dings. Principles of Sociology, Book III, Ch. II ; Sumner, Folkways, 
Ch. I. Sumner gives an elaborate survey of basic social customs. 

Section ii. On the inheritance of the undesirable, Swift, Mind in 
the Making, Ch. II ; Hall, Adolescence, Ch. V. On the varieties of in- 
stinctive expression, James, Principles of Psychology, Ch. XXIV. On the 
theory of the emotions, ibid., Ch. XXV. On the utility of emotional 
expressions, Dewey, Ethical Principles Underlying Education. On the 
control of bad tendencies, Keith, Elementary Education, Ch. VII ; 
Thorndike, Psychology, Ch. XII ; Hall, Youth, Chs. VII and XII ; 
Bain, Education as a Science, pp. 66-67, 72-76, 100-118. On education 
in inhibition, O'Shea, Dynamic Factors in Education, Chs. I-V. 

Section 12. For the psychical conditions that give rise to society, 
McDougaU, Social Psychology; Ribot, Psychology of the Emotions, Part II, 
Ch. VIII. On the evolution of parental care, Fiske, From Nature to God; 
Sutherland, Origin and Growth of the Moral Instinct, Vol. I ; Letourneau, 
r Evolution de I' Education; Kropotkin, Mutual Aid. On imitation in 
animals, Hobhouse, Mind in Evolution, pp. 149 and 191 et seq.; Kirk- 
pa.tnck, Genetic Psychology, pp. loi, 123-126; Washburn, The Animal 
Mind, p. 237 et seq.; Morgan, Animal Behavior, Ch. V. On imitation 
among men, Tarde, Social Laws; Ross, Social Psychology ; Baldwin, 
Mental Development, Methods and Processes, Ch. XII and Social and 
Ethical Interpretations, Part I ; Giddings, Principles of Sociology, pp. 
100-116, and Part II, Ch. II. 

Section 13. For the reaction of self-consciousness on education, 
Vincent, The Social Mind and Education, Ch. IV. For early conscious 
efforts at education, Letourneau, I' Evolution de I' Education; Chamberlain, 
The Child in Folk Thought, Ch. XIII ; Webster, Primitive Secret Societies, 
Ch. IV ; Hall, Adolescence, Ch. XIII. For the effect of reUgion on social 
stabihty, Kidd, Social Evolution, Ch. V ; LeBon, Psychology of Peoples, 
Book IV, Ch. II. For the education of early civilizations and the rise 
of the school, Laurie, Historical Survey of Pre-Christian Education; 
Davidson, History of Education, Ch. IV. 

Section 14. For the value of education as a means of social control, 
Ross, Social Control, Ch. XIV; Webster, Primitive Secret Societies, 
Ch. VII. For the importance of exploitation as a stage in progress. 
Gumplowicz, Outlines of Sociology, especially Part III; Giddings, De- 
scriptive a)id Historical Sociology, pp. 414-432; Sumner, Folkways, Ch. VI ; 



574 Principles of Ediuation 

Mallock, Aristocracy and Evolution, Book n, Ch. n. For the efEect of 
social conditions on natiiral selection, Jordan, The Blood of the Xaiion ; 
Huxley, Evolution and Ethics ; Fiske, The Destiny of Man, Chs. XII- 
XI\' ; Lankester, The Kingdom of Man; Hobhouse, Mind in Evolution, 
Ch. X\l. 

Sectiox 15. On the general relation of psychology to education and 
on the method of individual development, Miinsterberg, Psychology and 
the Teacher, Chs. XI-XIV ; Kirkpatrick, Fundamentals of Child Study, 
Ch. I ; James, Talks to Teachers on Psychology. 

Sectiox 16. On the dependence of intelUgence on heredity compare 
references on Section 9, and Hobhouse, Mind in Evolution, Chs. IV' and 
XV' ; Morgan, Animal Behavior. Ch. X\". On the principle of recapitu- 
lation, Kirkpatrick, Genetic Psychology, Ch. XI ; Baldwin, Mental Devel- 
opment, Methods and Processes, Ch. I ; Fouillee, Education from a National 
Standpoint, Book HI, Ch. I. 

Sectiox 17. On selection in racial and individual development. Kirk- 
patrick, Genetic Psychology, pp. 348-354. On kinds of selection, Baldwin, 
Mental Development, Social and Ethical Interpretations, p. 548. On selec- 
tion in individual development, Judd, Genetic Psychology for Teac/ters, 
Ch. I\' ; Washburn, Animal Mind, Sections 85-86. On selection in con- 
scious learning, Thomdike, Psychology, Chs. X\TI and XX. 

Sectiox 18. On the fimction of consciousness, AngeU, Psychology, 
Ch. in ; Royce, Outlines of Psychology, Ch. II ; King, Psychology of 
Child Development, Chs. HI-V ; Hobhouse, Mind in Evolution, Chs. 
XI\'-X\T[ ; Miller, Psychology of Thinking, Ch. IV ; Kirkpatrick, 
Genetic Psychology, Ch. \TI ; Washburn, The Animal Mind, Ch. XII. 

Sectiox 19. On the process of forming habits, Swift, Mind in the 
Making, Ch. \"I ; James, Talks to Teachers, Ch. \TII. On consciousness 
and habit forming, Bagley, Tfie Educative Process, Ch. \TI ; Thomdike, 
Principles of Teaching, Ch. XI\' ; Rowe, Habit Formation, Ch. \7I. On 
consciousness and the reorganization of habits, ibid., Ch. XI ; Judd, 
Genetic Psychology for Teachers, Ch. H. On habits as a basis for readjust- 
ment, Rowe, Habit Formation, Ch. XH ; Bagley, The Educative Process, 
Chs. X and XIII ; Royce, Outlines of Psyclwlogy, Ch. X ; also references 
to Sections 2>i ^^^ 34- 

Sectiox 20. On early ideas of recapitulation in education, Lessing, 
The Education of the Human Race; Froebel, The Education of Man, Ch. I. 
On the biological law of recapitulation, with e.xceptions thereto, Marshall, 
Biological Eissays and Addresses; Baldwin, Mental Development, Methods 



Bibliography 575 

and Processes, pp. 20-35. Jordan and Kellogg, Evolution and Animal 
Life, Ch. XIV. 

Section 21. On recapitulation according to the faculties with educa- 
tional applications, Rosenkranz, Philosophy of Education, Part II, Chs. IV 
to \'II. On the tiiiie of appearance of various instincts, Kirkpatrick, 
Fundamentals of Child Study, Chs. VI-XIII. On the educational im- 
portance of knowing this time, James, Principles of Psychology, Ch. 
XXI\'. On the value of complete recapitulation, Hall, Adolescence, 
Preface. On epochs in childhood as recapitulatory, Bagley, The Educative 
Process, Ch. XII ; Chamberlain, The Child, A Study in the Evolution of 
Man, Chs. Ill and IV. 

Section 22. On the culture epoch theory and concentration, De- 
Garmo, Herhart and the Herbartians, Part II, Chs. Ill and IV ; Van Liew, 
First Herhart Year Book, The Culture Epoch Theory; Mncent, The Social 
Mifui and Education, Chs. III-V. For criticism of the apphcation of the 
idea to education, Lange, Apperception, Part II. On special appUcations 
of the idea of concentration involving in a measure the culture epoch 
idea, Parker, The Theory of Concentration; Dewey, The School and Society ; 
McMurr>', General Method, Ch. IV. 

Section 23. On the meaning of learning as contrasted with accustom- 
ing or organic adaptation, Hobhouse, Mind in Evolution, Ch. V. On 
accustoming as selective learning, Jennings, Behavior of the Lower Organ- 
isms, pp. 345-349; Morgan, Evolution and Adaptation, pp. 12-15, 377" 
379. On kinds of learning, Kirkpatrick, Genetic Psychology, Ch. X. 

Section 24. On the relation between affection and sensation, Titch- 
ener, A Text Book of Psychology, pp. 223-264. On the evolution of 
feeUng, Stanley, The Evolutionary Psychology of Feeling. On the trans- 
ference of feeUng from one to a related stimulus, Ziehen, Introduction 
to the Study of Physiological Psychology, Ch. IX ; Ribot, The Psychology 
of the Emotions, Ch. XII ; Jennings, Behavior of the Lower Organisms, 
pp. 289-292. On the conditions of feehng, Angell, Psychology, Ch. XIV ; 
Judd, Psychology, pp. 192-212 ; Marshall, Pleasure, Pain, and .Esthetics, 
Chs. IV and V. On the function of feeUng in education, Munsterberg, 
Psychology and the Teacher, Ch. XXI. 

Section 25. For an analysis of perception which indicates the com- 
plexity and variabihty of the factors that determine it, Judd, Psychology, 
Ch. VI ; Stratton, Experimental Psychology and Culture, Chs. V-VIII ; 
Witmer, Analytical Psychology, Chs. I-IV ; Binet, Psychology of Reasoning. 

Section 26. On the factors in conscious learning, James, Principles of 



576 Principles of Education 

Psychology, Ch. XXII ; Galton, Inquiries into Human Faculty, pp. 83- 
114; Miller, Psychology of Thinking, Chs. VIII-XII ; Dewey, Studies 
in Logical Theory, Chs. I-IV ; Baldwin, Development and Evolution, 
Ch. XVII ; Pillsbury, Psychology of Reasoning; Titchener, Experimental 
Psychology of the Thought Processes. 

Section 27. On the development and use of the image and the concept, 
Ribot, Essay on the Creative Imagination; Kirkpatrick, Genetic Psychology, 
Chs. IX and X ; Miller, Psychology of Thinking, Chs. XIV and XV ; 
Bagley, The Educative Process, Chs. VIII-X. On the construction of 
memories, Stratton, Experimental Psychology and Culture, Chs. IX and X ; 
Miinsterberg, On the Witness Stand, The Memory of the Witness. On 
logical memorizing, James, Principles of Psychology, Ch. XVI ; McMurry, 
How to Study, Ch. VII. On the laws of association, James, Principles 
of Psychology, Ch. XIV; .Thorndike, Psychology, Chs. XIII-XVI. 

Section 28. On the nature and development of judgment. Miller, 
Psychology of Thinking, Chs. XXI and XXII ; Judd, Psychology, Ch. XI ; 
Dewey, Studies in Logical Theory, Ch. VIII ; Baldwin, Thought and Things, 
especially Vol. II, Chs. I and II ; Hobhouse, The Theory of Knowledge, 
Ch. XI. 

Section 29. On the general problem and method of cultivating the 
reason, Thorndike, The Principles of Teaching, Ch. X ; Miller, Psychol- 
ogy of Thinking, Chs. X, XIII, XVII, XIX-XXII ; Home, Psychological 
Principles of Education, Part II ; James, Talks to Teachers, Chs. IX to 
XIV ; DeGarmo, Principles of Secondary Education, Processes of In- 
struction. 

Section 30. On the methods of storing the mind with effective ideas, 
McMurry, The Method of the Recitation; DeGa-rmo, Essentials of Method; 
Bagley, The Educative Process, Part VI ; Lange, Apperception; Findlay, 
Principles of Class Teaching, Section IV ; Spencer, Education, Ch. II ; 
Tompkins, Philosophy of Teaching; Herbart, Science of Education, Book 
II ; Hamilton, The Recitation; Fitch, Lectures on Teaching, Ch. V. 

Section 31. On training the rational attitudes, Judd, Genetic Psy- 
chology for Teachers, Chs. IV and V ; McMurry, How to Study; Earhart, 
Teaching Children to Study. On the adjustment of the program to pro- 
mote study, Bagley, School Management, Ch. XIV ; Jones, Teaching 
Children to Study; Dutton and Snedden, Adininistration of Public Educa- 
tion in the United States, Ch. XIX. On the problem and interest in con- 
nection with individual effort, Dewey, Interest as Related to the Training 
of the Will. 



Bibliography 577 

Section 32. On Herbart's rejection of the faculty theory and of dis- 
cipUne of the faculties, Herbart, Text Book in Psychology, Part II, Chs. I 
and VI. On the attitude of the Herbartians on the question, Hinsdale, 
The Dogma of Formal Discipline, Ed. Rev., Sept., 1894. For a review 
of earlier American opinions on the topic, Youmans, Culture Dematided 
by Modern Life. For a collection of latter-day opinions of educators, 
Thorndike, Educational Psychology, Ch. VIII ; Riidiger, Principles of 
Education, Ch. VI. 

Section 33. For reviews of experimental work on formal discipline, 
Thorndike, Educational Psychology, Ch. VIII ; articles by Angell, Judd, 
and Pillsbury, Ed. Rev., June, 1908; by Delabarre, Henderson, and Home, 
Education, May, 1909 ; Bennett, Formal Discipline; Riidiger, Principles 
of Education, Ch. VI ; Heck, Mental Discipline and Educational Values. 

Section 34. For the educational bearings of the present idea on formal 
discipline, in addition to references above, O'Shea, Education as Adjust- 
ment, Chs. XIII and XIV ; Bagley, The Educative Process, Ch. XIII ; 
Meiklejohn, Is Mental Training a Myth? Ed. Rev., Vol. XXXVII. 

Section 35. On the general function and importance of imitation, 
Tarde, The Laws of Imitation, Chs. I and II ; Baldwin, Mental Develop- 
ment, Methods and Processes, Ch. XVI ; Stratton, Experimental Psy- 
chology and Culture, Ch. XI ; Cooley, Human Nature and the Social 
Order, Ch. II. 

Section 36. On the psycho-physiological mechanism of imitation, 
Baldwin, Mental Development, Methods and Processes, Chs. VI and IX ; 
Sidis, The Psychology of Suggestion, Chs. I-V ; Munsterberg, Psychology 
and the Teacher, Ch. XIX. 

Section 37. On the mass action, feeling, and thought of social groups 
because of imitation, LeBon, The Crowd; Ross, Social Psychology, Chs. 
I-V. On the effect of imitation on the development of mental power, 
Baldwin, Mental Development, Methods and Processes, Chs. X-XV ; 
Kirkpatrick, Fundamentals of Child Study, Ch. VIII. On the reaction of 
imitation upon the consciousness of self and of others and upon character, 
Baldwin, Mental Development, Social and Ethical Interpretations ; Royce, 
Outlines of Psychology, Ch. XII ; Mezes, Ethics, Descriptive and Explan- 
atory, Ch. VII. 

Section 38. On the general mechanism of imitation in society, Tarde, 
The Laws of Imitation; Ross, Social Psychology; Giddings, Principles 
of Sociology, Book IV, Ch. III. For the reaction of the individual on 
social practice and the various sanctions that control imitation, Baldwin, 

2P 



578 Principles of Education 

Menial Development, Social and Ethical Interpretations, Book I, Parts II, 
III, and IV. Baldwin discusses the social mechanism of imitation in 
Book II of the same reference. 

Skction 39. For the general characteristics of early education, Laurie, 
Historical Survey of Pre-Christian Education; Monroe, Text Book in the 
History of Education, Chs. I and II ; Graves, History of Education, Part I. 
For the evolution of rational education, Monroe, Text Book in the History 
of Education, pp. 52-62, 102-120, 351-357, 538-553. On rational educa- 
tion as comparison of traditions, customs, etc., Sumner, Folkways, Ch. 
XIX ; Ross, Foundations of Sociology, Ch. VIII. 

Section 40. For the reaction of language upon thought, Noire, On 
the Origin of Language; Miiller, The Science of Thought; Romanes, 
Mental Evolution in Man, Chs. I-V ; Baldwin, Mental Development, 
Social and Ethical Interpretations, pp. 128-139; Morgan, Psychology for 
Teachers, Ch. VIII ; Judd, Psychology, Ch. X. For the growth of lan- 
guage in the race, Tylor, Anthropology, Chs. IV- VI ; Starr, First Steps in 
Human Progress., Chs. XVII-XXII ; Tylor, Early History of Mankind, 
Chs. II-VI. For the development of language in the child, Preyer, The 
Development of the Intellect; Tracy, Psychology of Childhood, Ch. V ; 
Sully, Studies of Childhood, Ch. V ; Kirkpatrick, Fundamentals of Child 
Study, Ch. XIII. 

Section 41. For the rise and effects of written language, Tylor, 
Anthropology, Ch. VI ; Cooley, Social Organization, Part II ; Ward, 
Dynamic Sociology, Vol. II, pp. 180-189 > Barnes, Studies in Education, 
First Series, pp. 28-37, The Historic Sense Among Primitive People. 

Section 42. On the study of language as a basis for education, Laurie, 
Lectures On Language, Lecture I ; Hinsdale, Teaching the Language Arts, 
Ch. Ill ; Fitch, Lectures On Teaching, Ch. VIII. On verbalism and its 
dangers. Quick, Educational Reformers, Chs. I-III ; Huxley, Science and 
Education, VI, Science and Culture; Hall, Aspects of Child Life in Educa- 
tion, The Contents of Children's Minds on Entering School. 

Section 43. On the explanation and function of play, Spencer, Psy- 
chology, Vol. I, Section 50, and Vol. II, Ch. IX ; Groos, The Play of Ani- 
mals, Chs. I, II, and V, and The Play of Man, Part III ; Baldwin, Mental 
Development, Social and Ethical Interpretations, pp. 139-147 ; Hall, 
Youth, (^h. VI ; Richter, Levana, §§ 43-60 ; Froebcl, The Education of 
Man, §§ 30 and 49 ; Carr, The Survival Values of Play, Univ. of Col. 
Publications. 

Section 44. On the development of the child's interest in games. 



I 

I 



Bibliography 5 79 

Kirkpatrick, Fundamentals of Child Study, Ch. IX ; Croswell, Amuse- 
ments of Worcester School Children, Pcd. Sem., Sept., 1899 ; McGhcc, 
A Study of the Play Life of Some South Carolina Children, Fed. Scm., 
Dec, 1900 ; Groos, The Flay of Man, Parts I and II. 

Section 45. For play among animals, Groos, Flay of Animals, Chs. 
Ill and IV. For play among primitive men, Chamberlain, The Child, 
Ch. II ; Haddon, A Study of Man, Chs. VIII-XV. For [)lay among the 
Greeks, Holm, History of Greece, Vol. I, Ch. XIX ; Davidson, Education 
of the Greek People, Ch. III. 

Section 46. On the use of play in the school to-day, Addams, Newer 
Ideals of Peace, pp. 174-179; Scott, Social Education, Chs. IV-VII ; 
Johnson, Education by Plays and Games; Report of the Committee of the 
I'lay Ground Association of America On a Normal Course in Flay. On 
the motivation of school work, DeGarmo, Interest and Education; Arnold, 
School and Class Management, pp. 55-58, 98, and Chs. IX and XI ; Bain, 
Education as a Science, pp. 60-118. 

Section 47. On the educational function of the various institutions, 
Home, Philosophy of Education, Chs. I and IV ; Bagley, Educative Process, 
Ch. II; Rosenkranz, Philosophy of Education, §§ 131-136 and 260; 
Rudigcr, Principles of Education, Ch. XIV. On the relation of these 
institutions in the education of the child, Dutton, Social Phases of Edu- 
cation; Dutton and Sneddcn, The Administration of Public Education in 
the United States, Ch. XXXII ; Hanus, A Modern School, Ch. V, The 
School and the Home. On the relation of religious agencies to the school, 
various articles in Education aiul National Character, published under the 
direction of the Religious Education Association. 

Section 48. For classifications of the curriculum, Home, Philosophy 
of Education, Chs. IV and V ; Riidiger, Principles of Education, Ch. X ; 
Vincent, Social Mind and Education, Ch. V ; Harris, Psychologic Founda- 
tions of Education; DeGarmo, Principles of Secondary Education, The 
Studies; Reports of the Committees of Ten and Fifteen of the N. E. A. on 
Elementary and Secondary Curricula; Hanus, Educational Aims and Edu- 
cational Values, Ch. III. 

Section 49. On the difTerentiation of the school in general, Monroe, 
Text Book in the History of Education. On the accumulati'^n of culture 
and the rise of the school, Letourneau, V Evolution deVFjluca'. ion; Laurie, 
Historical Survey of Pre-Christian Education. On the rise of esoteric cul ts, 
Webster, Primitive Secret Societies, Chs. IX and X. On the evolution of 
independent culture among the Greeks, Davidson, Aristotle '.aid the An- 



580 Principles of Education 

dent Educational Ideals, Book II, Part II, and Book IV ; Walden, The 
Universities of Ancient Greece. On the development of secular culture 
and national control in the universities, Rashdall, Universities of Europe 
in the Middle Ages; Laurie, Rise and Constitution of Universities, Lecture 
X. On similar progress in all schools, Paulsen, German Education, Book 
IV, Ch. Ill ; Anderson, History of Common School Education, Chs. IX, 
XXVII, and XXVIII ; Brown, The Making of Our Middle Schools, 
Chs. X, XIII, and XVI. On the secularization of the schools, Payne, 
Contributions to the Science of Education, Ch. XII. 

Section 50. On the rise of tolerance, Lecky, Rationalism in Europe, 
Ch. IV. On the development of free thought and speech. Draper, Intel- 
lectual Development of Europe, Vol. II, Chs. V-XI ; White, History of 
the Warfare of Science with Theology. On academic freedom in the univer- 
sities, Brown, Academic Freedom, Ed. Rev., March, 1900 ; Draper, Amer- 
ican Education, Limits of Academic Freedo?n; Jenks, Citizenship and the 
Schools, Ch. VI. On the evils of state control of schools, Spencer, Social 
Statics, National Education. On the necessity of such a control, Ward, 
Dynamic Sociology, Ch. XIV ; Draper, American Education, The Function 
of the State, and The Legal Basis of the School; Dutton and Snedden, The 
Administration of Pub. Ed. in the U.S., Chs. III-IV. On the need of 
independence in the schools. Chancellor, Motives, Values, and Ideals in 
Education, Ch. VII. 

Section 51. On the school as isolated from the service of society, 
Swift, Mind in the Making, Ch. IX ; Dewey, The School atui Society, 
Ch. Ill ; Spencer, Education, Ch. I. On the division of authority be- 
tween educators and lay boards, Dutton and Snedden, The Administra- 
tion of Pub. Ed. in the U.S., Ch. VII, also Chs. IX and X ; Chancellor, 
Our Schools, Their Administration and Supervision, Ch. II ; Draper, 
American Education, Unsettled Questions, and The Teacher and the Position. 
On compulsory education, Draper, American Education, Illiteracy and 
Compulsory Attvidance; Dutton and Snedden, The Administration of 
Pub. Ed. in the U.S., Ch. XXVII. On the function of the school in reli- 
gion and morals, Education and National Character, pubHshed under the 
direction of tho National Reliofious Association ; Sadler, Moral Instruction 
and Training in the Schools; Palmer, Ethical and Moral Instruction in the 
Schools; Hone, The Psycholoc,ical Principles of Education. Parts IV and V. 

Section 52. On social selection by the school, Thorndike, Educational 
Psychology, Ch. IX ; Riidiger, Principles of Education, pp. 25-28. On 
infanticide and its reasons, Sutherland, Origin and Growth of the Moral 



Bibliography 581 

Instinct, Ch. VI ; Westermarck, The Evolution of Morality, Ch. XVII. 
On adolescent examinations, Webster, Primitive Secret Societies, Chs. 
II, III, and VI. On the need of differentiating selection to-day, Flexner, 
The American College, Chs. Ill and IV ; Hanus, A Modern School, Ch. I. 

Section 53. On the education of the pre-adolescent and the adoles- 
cent, Hall, Youth, Ch. I et seq.; Bagley, The Educative Process, Ch. XII ; 
Booiie, Science of Education, pp. 278-282, and Ch. XXVI. On the read- 
justment of the relation between secondary and elementary education, 
Draper, American Education, Education for Efficiency; Dewey, The Edu- 
cational Situation; Dutton and Snedden, The Administration of Pub. Ed. 
in the U.S., Ch. XX ; Hanus, A Modern School, Chs. Ill and IV. On the 
function of secondary education, E. E. Brown, The Making of Our Middle 
Schools, Chs. XVII, XVIII, and XX ; J. F. Brown, The American High 
School, Chs. I-II ; Hanus, Educational Aims and Educational Values, 
Chs. II, IV, and V; Butler, The Meaning of Education, The Function of 
Secondary Education; Riidiger, The Principles of Education, Ch. XIII. 

Section 54. On the school as determining social progress, Fouillee, 
Education from a National Standpoint, Book I ; Davidson, History of 
Education, Ch. I ; Ward, Pure Sociology, Ch. XX. On experiment in 
Education, Thorndike, Educational Psychology, Ch. XV ; Swift, Mind 
ift the Making, Ch. VIII. 

Section 55. On the rise of academic religion and moraUty, Hobhouse, 
Morals in Evolution, Vol. II. On academic moraUty, Dewey and Tufts, 
Ethics, Chs. VII, IX, XIII, and XIX ; Hicks, Stoics and Epicureans. 
On the rise of academic philosophy, any account of Greek philosophy, as 
Windelband, History of Ancient Philosophy, or Weber, History of Phi- 
losophy. On the development of academic science independently of art, 
Whewell, History of the Inductive Sciences, Book IV, Ch. V. On the rise of 
the idea of art for its own sake, Knight, Philosophy of the Beautiful, Chs. I, 
II, and IV. On present-day academic philosophy, James, Pragmatism. 

Section 56. On the development of science and its application to 
practice, Ward, Dynamic Sociology, Ch. XIII. For a sketch of modern 
transformations of industry, Wright, The Industrial Evolution of the 
United States. On the elective system, Eliot, University Administration, 
Ch. IV: Flexner, The American College, Ch. IV; Dutton and Snedden, 
The Administration, of Pub. Ed. in the U.S., pp. 365-369 ; Hanus, A 
Modern School, Chs. Ill and IX. 

Section 57. On self-realization as the aim of conduct, Seth, Principles 
of Ethics, Part II, Ch. Ill ; Mezes, Ethics, Descriptive and Explanatory, 



582 Principles of Educatio7i 

Ch. XV ; Dewey and Tufts, Ethics, Ch. XVIII ; Small, Sociology, Chs. 
XXXI and XXXII. 

Section 58. On the history of the conception of Liberal education, 
Monroe, Text Book in the History of Education, pp. 52-61, 267-274, 364- 
370, 451-455, 679-684 ; Davidson, Aristotle Mid the Ancient Educational 
Ideals, Part I, Ch. I and Appendix ; Veblen, Theory of the Leisure Class, 
Ch. XIV. On the liberal education of to-day, see references under §§ i 
and 2, and Huxley, Science and Culture, A Liberal Education and Where to 
Find It; Eliot, Educational Reform, What is a Liberal Education? 
Hadley, Education of the American Citizen, Fundamental Requirements in 
School Education. 

Section 59. On the history of vocational training, Monroe, Text Book 
in the History of Education, pp. 4-13, 315, 739-744 ; Dexter, History of 
Education in the United States, Chs. XVI-XX ; Dutton and Snedden, 
The Administration of Pub. Ed. in the U.S., Chs. XXI and XXII. On 
the rise of industrial education, MacArthur, Edtication in Its Relation to 
Manual Industry ; Carlton, Education and Industrial Evolution; Hanus, 
Beginnings in Industrial Education ; Ware, Educational Foundations of 
Trade and Industry. On the degradation of service, Veblen, Theory of 
the Leisure Class, Ch. I. On the exaltation of the ideal of service, Dewey 
and Tufts, Ethics, pp. 156-157, 514-517. On the growth of the idea of 
natural law. Draper, Intellectual Development of Europe, Ch. I. 

Section 60. On the idea of democracy, Cooley, Social Organization, 
Parts III and IV ; Giddings, Elements of Sociology, Ch. XXIV ; Wilson, 
The State, Ch. XIII. On the function of education in a democracy, 
Horace Mann, The Necessity of Education in a Republican Government ; 
Butler, The Meaning of Edticatiot}, Democracy and Education; Hadley, 
The Education of the American Citizen ; Jenks, Citizenship and the Schools, 
Chs. I-V ; Ward, Dynamic Sociology, Chs. XIII and XIV ; Monroe, 
Text Book in the History of Education, Ch. XIII. On the undesirability 
of democratic education, Mallock, Aristocracy and Evolution, Book IV, 
Ch. III. 

Section 61. On the sort of education necessary in a democracy, Ehot, 
Educational Reform, The Function of Education in Dcm.ocratic Society; 
Giddings, Democracy and Empire, Chs. XIII and XIV ; Cubberley, 
Changing Conceptions of Education ; Dewey, The Educational Situation; 
Patten, The New Basis of Civilization, Ch. VI ; Dewey and Tufts, Ethics, 
pp. 548-556 ; Addams, Democracy and Social Ethics, Ch. VI ; Henderson, 
The Social Spirit in America, Chs. XII-XIV. 



INDEX 



Ability, foundation of, 130-143 ; general 
and special, 286-287 ; determination of 
relative, 481-485. 

Abstract habits, formation and use of, 
157-160, 216-221. 

Abstraction, value of, 261. 

Academic subjects as distinguished from 
practical ones, 434 ; culture as discipli- 
nary, 439 ; culture, definition of, 502 ; 
culture, rise of, 502-513; culture, re- 
action against, 513-523; culture as 
related to utility, 523-533 ; culture as 
liberal education, 537 ; issues, 453-454, 
46s; motive, 415-416, 535-536; fre- 
dom, rise of, 451-467; freedom, aspects 
of, 452 ; freedom, reasons for, 462, 475- 
476 ; freedom, implications of, 465-467 ; 
freedom, dangers of, 468-469; freedom, 
limitation of, 469-476; freedom as 
necessary to freedom of pupils, 498-499. 

Academies as giving higher education, 494 ; 
accustoming as compared with learning, 
191-194. 

Acquired characters, inheritance of, 73-78; 
96-97, 180; and language, 375. 

Action system, 86-90, 140-143, 215-216. 

Adolescent exercises, character and func- 
tion of, 116-122, 127-131, 401, 440-441 ; 
as discipHnary education, 438-439. 

Adornment in primitive art, 510. 

/^neas Sylvius on the aim of education, 5. 

.^Esthetic culture of the Renaissance, 4-7, 
22; games, 389, 391-392 ; instincts back 
of academic ideal, 503, 510-511. 

Affective consciousness, function of, 146- 
147, 191, 193, 197; types of, 192-196. 

Agassiz and the idea of recapitulation, 163. 

Age of rivalry in children, 394, 413, 486- 
487 ; of independence in children, 395, 
413-414, 487-488. 

Agencies, educational, analysis of, 429-439. 

Aggregate idea in reasoning, 249-251. 

Aim of life as feeling, 147 ; determination 
of, 522-532; constituents of, 528. 



Aims of education, 1-24, 184-187, 523-533 ; 

of conscious education, 124. 
Alternation of generations, function of, 

56-58. 
Amoeba, 42, 46, 51, 85. 
Amusements as occupation for leisure, 560. 
Analysis, conditions of, 217-218. 
Angell on the function of consciousness, 

148, 298; on the conditions of feeling, 

197. 
Anger, control of, 99-100, 104-105. 
Apperception, 172-173, 184-185, 188, 264- 

265, 291-292. 
Appointment of teachers, 466, 469-472. 
Apprenticeship, 405, 431, 447, 489; decline 
^ of, 542. 
A priori ideas as elements in experience, 

290-291. 
Aristocracy and cosmopolitanism, 354. 
Aristocratic culture of Renaissance, 4-7; 

and play, 399-401 ; as discipline, 437- 

439- 
Aristotle on aim of education, 7 ; on the 

catharsis, 175; and ability to observe, 

294. 
Arrested development and recapitulation, 

176, 178-180. 
Art and play, 398; of primitive men, 510; 

transformed from utilitarian to academic, 

510-513- 

Articulate speech, development of, 360- 
362. 

Artificial environment, 39-4°. 87- 

Asceticism as educational aim, 2-3; as 
negation of instincts, 102 ; and education 
by play, 401-402 ; as academic attitude, 
510. 

Assignments for study, 279-280. 

Association and imitation, 323-327- 

Associationists, 200-201. 

Associations, inborn versus acquired, 64- 
70; formation of, 144-145, 152-153; 
value of accidental, 261-268; as logical 
relations, 260. 

Athenian education and play, 399; man- 
hood examination, 481. 



583 



584 



Index 



Attention, control of, 209, 239, 254, 271, 
298, 313; in imitation, 328-329, zii, 
343-345- 

Attilius, 5. 

Attitude of work, 409-410. 

Attitudes, meaning and kinds of, 21 1-2 14, 
239-241, 249, 256; in relation to the 
content of mind, 256-257 ; culture of, 
270-282,284; and imitation, 332; and 
articulate speech, 362-363. 

Aurelius, Marcus, and academic indepen- 
dence, 444. 

Authority, meaning and rise of, 339-345- 

Avocations in relation to play, 386; im- 
portance of, 565 ; nature of, 565-569. 

B 

Bacon on the application of science, 8, 19- 
20, 514; on idols, 374; against final 
causation, 647. 

Bagley on effects of training, 304-305, 
310-312. 

Bair on effects of training, 301. 

Baldwin on organic selection, 80-81 ; on 
social heredity, in; on dynamogene- 
sis, 149-150; on short cuts, 168; on 
thought experimentation, 222; on imi- 
tation, 318, 325, 335. 

Ball on inheritance of acquired characters, 
76-77. 

Barnard on mental discipline, 293. 

Basedow and education by play, 403. 

Bergstrom on effects of training, 300, 306. 

Boethius and academic independence, 444. 

Brahmins as learned caste, 441. 

Butler, N. M., on aim of education, 18; 
on meaning of infancy, 61 ; on indepen- 
dence of the endowed university, 464; 
on education in a democracy, 552. 



Caesar and all-round ability, 295. 
Capacities, source and kinds of, 29-31 ; 33- 

34, 36, 40-41. 63, 67, 85-86, 91, 139-143. 
Card games in education, 403. 
Caribs and grading by ordeals, 481. 
Castes and education, 118, 120, 129-131, 

370-371; definition of, 558. 
Catharsis as educational method, 175-178. 
Cerebral hemispheres, function of, 69-70, 

J47-148. 



Ceremonial, religious, utility of, 119, 511. 

Chaldees, 441. 

Character as aim of education, 14; as 

helped by language, 374. 
Checks to destructive effects of reason, 

121, 123, 351-352. 
China and infanticide, 480. 
Chinese education, 130, 373, 481 ; wall, 354. 
Christianity and social environments, 45, 

99 ; and education by play, 401 ; and 

academic independence, 444-445. 
Church and education, 430-431 ; in control 

of the school, 442, 444-445, 448-450; 

rise of the national, 449. 
Cicero, 4; and struggle against conserva- 
tive culture, 453. 
Circular activity, in, 318, 325. 
Class and individual teaching, 280-281. 
Classical study as ideal education, 4-12; 

and formal discipline, 288-289; as test 

of mental power, 482. 
Cognitive consciousness, function of, 147, 

154-157, 198. 
College as secondary school, 490-491, 496. 
Comenius on the aim of education, 8-9; 

on concrete illustration, 264. 
Commerce and spread of customs, 355-356. 
Community consciousness and imitation, 

332. 
Competition, kinds of, 36-37. 
Composition ahd training the reason, 276- 

277. 
Compulsory education, 466; reasons for, 

473-474- 

Concentration of studies, 184-189. 

Concepts as psychological and logical, 226- 
230; use of in readjustment, 209, 225- 
232, 259-261, 267; importance of deriv- 
ing from the concrete, 261-264; and 
language, 359. 

Conceptualism, 358-359- 

Concertations, 403. 

Concrete illustrations and use of language, 
377-378. 

Confucianism, 131. 

Consciousness, function of, 149-151, 153- 
158. 

Conservatism of early society and educa- 
tion, 96-98; of school men, 497, 516; 
of language, 372-373. 

Conservative effects of habit, 63, 153. 

Constructive sport, 390-391 ; work, 278. 

Content theory of mind, 212-213, 290-292. 



Index 



585 



Continuous ladder in American education, 

484. 
Control of undesirable tendencies, 102-108 ; 

by school of curriculum and methods of 

teaching, 465-466, 469; by school of 

appointment of teachers, 466, 469-47 2 ; 

by school of disposition of school money, 

466, 475 ; by lay boards of school officers, 

469-476. 
Cooperation as a function, 37-39, 88, 109, 

118, 124; in games, 393, 395, 419. 
Coordination, in nervous system, 91-95 ; 

of studies, i86. 
Coover on effects of special training, 296. 
Correlation of school and life, 265-266; 

of work and play in the school, 427. 
Crime and education, 552-554. 
Critical attitude, 212, 257, 266-269, 275. 
Culture, ideals of, 2-16; relation of to 

efficiency, 16-24. 
Culture epoch theory, 183-189; 292. 
Curiosity, function of, 254; in games, 390; 

as school motive, 413 ; as the basis of 

the academic ideal, 503. 
Curriculum, rise of, 429-430; problems of, 

434-439- 
Custom in imitation, 344. 
Customary, as principle_]of selection, 340. 
Cynicism in ethics, 508. 

D 

Dante on the aim of education, 7. 

Dark Ages and academic issues, 453. 

Darwin and all-round ability, 294. 

Deferred instincts, 64-66, 103 ; instinctive 
acts, 64-66. 

Defining characters, 260. 

De Garmo on coordination of studies, 186. 

Democracy and academic freedom, 454; 
meaning of, 550; function of education 
in, 550-559 ; ideal of education in, 560- 
570; produced by man, 554-5SS- 

Democratic education, 538-539 ; and play, 
404-405, 419-421. 

Democratizing of culture, 447, 568-569. 

Des Cartes and esoteric opinion, 456. 

Destructive sport, 310. 

Development, conditions of individual, 
139-162 ; and imitation, 357 ; as method 
of teaching, 274; deficiencies of the 
method of, 278. 

Dewey on the aim of education, 21, 23; 



on the function of emotion, 100-103, 105, 

107 ; on social Ufe in the school, 186-187, 

on interest and the use of problems, 265, 

272. 
Difierentiating selection by the school, 

4837485 • 
Diffusion of nervous impulses, 68-71, 90- 

91, 144, 152-153. 
Disciplinary as contrasted with content 

subjects, 434. 
Discipline in aristocratic education, 437- 

439; question of formal, 283-317. 
Discrimination, effect of training on, 297- 

298; and imitation, 331. 
Dispersal, means of, 51-52. 
Dissociation of movements, 92-93. 
Docility as a selected trait, 352-353. 
Donaldson on central nervous system in 

man, 67, 69. 
Dramatic imitation, 330 ; games, 390, 392. 
Drill in adolescent training, 118, 441; at 

age of rivalry, 487. 



Earhart on how to study, 279. 

Ebert on training of memory, 302-303. 

Efficiency as aim of education, i, 16-24; 
518-S19; 523-524. 

Effort as induced by imitation, 336; as 
related to play and work, 272, 408-411. 

Election, function of, 492. 

Elective system and formal discipline, 293 ; 
defects of, 485; reasons for, 517-522. 

Elementary education in Europe and the 
United States, 484. 

Eliminative selection in the school, 482- 
485, 489. 

Eliot on disciplinary values, 293. 

Emotions, training of, 100-108; and ado- 
lescent culture, 125; as a result of imi- 
tation, 332. 

Emperor of Germany on formal discipline, 
289. 

Empirical test of truth, 206, 214, 244, 340. 

Enlightenment and its educational aims, 
12-15. 

Epicurean ethics, 509. 

Epictetus and academic independence, 444. 

Epochs in childhood, 394-395- 

Equality of opportunity and state educa- 
tion, 448, 463, 556-558. 

Erasmus on the aim of education, 6-7, 



536 



Index 



Esoteric beliefs, 122 ; learning, rise of, 441, 

455-456 ; learning, value of, 456-458 ; 

learning, disappearance of, 458. 
Estimates, effect of training on, 297-298. 
Ethics transformed from utilitarian to 

academic, 507-509; and utility, 525- 

526. 
Euglena, 196. 
Examination conception of education, 478- 

485 ; as determining social heredity, 496. 
Executive heads, appointment of, 470-472. 
Experience and ideas, 211. 
Experimental subjects in secondary schools, 

491-492. 
Experimentation and learning, 144-148; 

as the basis of educational progress, 499. 
Expert control and academic freedom, 461- 

463- 
Exploitation in primitive education, 126- 
131, 540; and control of sanctions, 348- 
349 ; decline of, 546 ; in democracies, 

547- 
Expressive cries, 360. 
Ezra and efiects of written codes, 373. 



Faculties in struggle with chancellors, 449. 
Faculty theory, 10-12, 15, 169-172; and 

formal discipline, 284-286; Herbart on, 

291. 
Family and education, 116, 122, 430-431. 
Fear, control of, 90-100, 174; and critical 

attitude, 211. 
Feeling as factor in learning, 86, 89, 94; 

physiological basis of, 91 ; function of, 

146-148, 154-155, 191-193; types of, 

194-198; logic of, 205-208; as guide to 

action, 242-243. 
Felkin, 183. 
Fichte, 15. 

Fighting instinct, 172, 178. 
Final cause and evolution, 27-28, 526. 
Financial support of schools, adequacy of, 

468. 
Fiske on meaning of infancy, 61-62. 
Flexibility, education for, 98, 136, 141-143, 

158-160, 251-282, 561-563; evolution 

of, 32-47, S9-61, 70-71, 85-96, 114-115, 

139-163, 190-250. 
Form, fondness for, 289, 352. 
Formal discipline, 283-317; meaning of, 

283; historic reasons for, 288; Herbart 



on, 291 ; experimental study of, 293-304 ; 

common observation on, 294-295 ; as 
general and specific discipline, 305-307, 
310-315; general conclusion on, 307- 
309; application of conclusions to edu- 
cation, 309-316. 

Formal steps, 264-265. 

Fracker on training memory, 302. 

Freedom of investigation, 451-452; of 
teaching, 455-458 ; of school in determin- 
ing education, 458-467. 

Froebel on aim of education, 13-14, 20; 
on recapitulation, 164-165 ; on use of 
play, 404-406. 

Function, meaning of, 89-90. 

Functions, evolution of, 41-47 ; of society, 
108; that deal with the variable, 40. 



Galton on curve of distribution, 79; on 

regression to type, 114. 
Games of childhood, 388-396; individual, 

389-390; social, 391-393; in history of 

education, 396-405. 
Geddes on function of reproduction, 48-49. 
General discipline, 305, 314-315. 
Geography and concentration, 186. 
Giddings on consciousness of kind, 124. 
Greece, academic independence of, 444. 
Greek education, 130; use of play, 400. 
Groos on organic selection, 80-81 ; on 

theory of play, 384, 416. 
Growth, conditions of, 29; inertia of, 31, 

41-42, 47, 49, 52, 83, 153, 353-354; 

continuous and discontinuous, 48-50, 

72-73- 
Guarino on liberal education, 4-5. 
Gumplowicz on origin of castes, 118. 
Gymnasiums in modern education, 421. 

H 

Habit, formation of, 43-44, 90-95 ; effects 
of, 43, 56 ; as inhibiting instinctive acts, 
101-108; and imitation, 113, 323, 342- 
343, 357 ; in relation to readjustment, 
144, 152-162, 211, 214-218, 227-229, 268- 
269 ; and perception, 205 ; logic of, 206 ; 
as related to attitudes, 271. 

Habituation, perversion by, 177; arrested 
development by, 179. 

Hall on complete recapitulation, 174-182, 
259- 



hidex 



587 



Hamlet and inhibition, 213. 

Hebrew tradition and language, 373. 

Hegel on aim of education, 15. 

Henmon on reaction time and sensitivity, 
45- 

Herbart on aim of education, 14-15; on 
control of emotion, 106-107 ; on recapit- 
ulation, 165, 183; on struggle of ideas, 
200; on mind as experience, 212; on 
formal discipline, 280-292 ; on forming 
character, 374 ; on disadvantage of state 
education, 498. 

Herbartians on method of teaching, 264- 
265. 

Herder on recapitulation, 183. 

Heterogenesis, 82-83. 

Higher education, function of, 491 

High school, function of, 489-490. 

Hobhouse on learning by imitation, 112, 
328, 330; on the basis of learning, 139- 
140,159; on accustoming, 192. 

Hugo of St. Victor on aim of education, 

2-3. 7- 
Humanism, 4-7, 9; and spiritualism, 435- 

436. 
Humanities and culture epoch theory, 184- 

189; in struggle with science, 434-436; 

in relation to social control, 436-437 ; 

rise of the study of, 446. 
Huxley on discipline through science, 292. 



Ideal education, 135; and the differentia- 
tion of the school, 433. 

Ideals of education, 1-24; to be deter- 
mined by the school, 520-522. 

Ideas, rise of independent, 204 ; evolution 
of, 215-235 ; of Plato, 507-508. 

Ideational readjustment, 147, 198-199 ; 
forms of, 235-236 ; and transfer of prac- 
tice, 308-309; and imitation, 330; and 
language, 363-366. 

Identical elements, 298, 303-304 ; as form 
or content, 303-304. 

Illuminati and esoteric learning, 537. 

Imagery as aid to memory, 302-303. 

Imagination and readjustment, 209; rise 
of, 221-225; variation in, 223-225; 
culture of, 258 ; and imitation, 333 ; and 
language, 363 ; in the game, 390, 392. 

Imitation and social heredity, 111-115, 
124-125, 159; in general, 318-358; as 



selective, 319-321, 324; as adding to 
resources, 321—322; definition of, 323; 
instinctive, 323-324, 327, 332; learning 
by, 324-327 ; voluntary and involun- 
tary, 328-329; among animals, 112, 328- 
329; and ideational readjustment, 330, 
334-335 ; psychical effects of, 331-341 ; 
and consciousness of self and others, 335- 
341 ; and social norms, 339-341 ; spread 
and conflict of, 342-351 ; of the foreign, 
351-357 ; in the modern school, 357-358. 

Imitative association, 324-325, 357-358. 

Imperfect instinctive acts and instincts, 
66-71, 80-82. 

Indian education, 131. 

Inductive method, 264. 

Industry, general school of, 489. 

Inertia of growth, 31, 83, 153, 353-354- 

Infancy, function of, 59, 61-71, 179-181; 
and social heredity, 96-97 ; in relation to 
recapitulation, 166-167; and play, 383. 

Infanticide as race policy, 480—481. 

Infusoria, 85. 

Inhibition of hereditary impulses, 102-103, 
105-106; function of, 151-152. 

Initiatory rites, 118-119. 

Instinctive acts, 93-94, 99, 108; dis- 
tinguished from instincts, 65. 

Instincts, 15, 18, 86, 88-89, 94. 9Q. 100-108, 
140; social, no; teaching, in, 114; 
and intelligence, 141-143, 150-151 ; 
in recapitulation, 172-182; transitory, 
173; as controlling imitation, 343; in- 
volved in language, 363 ; of play, 383- 
385, 389, 391 ; and academic interest, 
415-416. 

Institutions, definition of, 429; as educa- 
tional, 429-433. 

Instruction in traditions, etc., 1 21-124. 

Intension, 259-260. 

Intensive study, 315. 

Interest as aim of education, 14-15 ; as 
involved in learning, 554-555. 265, 271 ; 
immediate and mediate, 272-273 ; in 
persons, 335 ; shown in games, 389-394 ; 
and use of play in education, 402-403. 

Interference of habits, 297, 299, 306-308. 

Irradiation of feeling, 195-197. 



James on psychologist's fallacy, 28; on 
number of instincts, 67 ; on inhibition of 



588 



Index 



instincts by habits, 70, 104; on inheri- 
tance of acquired characters, 75 ; on 
emotion, 100, 1 25, 332 ; on relation of con- 
sciousness and movement, 149; on cul- 
ture of instincts, 173 ; on reserve energy, 
214; on association, 227-228, 262; on 
training the memory, 301-302 ; on the 
social me, 337. 

Japanese and imitation, 353. 

Jefferson on education in a democracy, 551. 

Jelly fish and alternation of generations, 57. 

Jennings on selective power in paramoe- 
cium, 28; on learning among low or- 
ganisms, 85 ; on the action system, 86, 
141 ; on the behavior of the stentor, 87 ; 
on reflex action, 93, 159; on accustom- 
ing, 192 ; on physiological resolution, 
195-196. 

Jesuits and education by play, 403. 

Job and academic religion, 505, 509. 

Jordan on selective effects of war, 132. 

Judd on conditions of feeUng, 197; on in- 
terference of habits, 299-300; on effect 
of language on discrimination, 364. 

Judgment, function of, 148, 199-200, 205— 
208, 210, 224-225; factors in, 212-213, 
235; evolution of, 235-250; and imita- 
tion, 345, 357 ; and games of rivalry, 
393~39S; and freedom of teaching, 45 8. 



Kant as introducing content theory of 
mind, 289-291. 

Katabolic crisis and reproduction, 49-51. 

Katabolism as condition of feeling, 194- 
197. 

Kellogg on causes of variation, 79. 

Kidd on social value of religion, 119. 

Kindergarten and play, 403—404, 412. 

Kirkpatrick on walking as a perfect instinc- 
tive act, 66 ; on dramatic imitation, 330. 

Knightly education and play, 400-402 ; 
and discipline, 439. 



Laboratory work, 277-27?. 

Ladislas, education of, 5. 

Laissez faire as method of education, 13 ; 
and the elective system, 5 20 ; and educa- 
tion in a democracy, 459-464, 550-552, 
SIS' 



Lamb on tyranny of custom, 169. 

Lange on emotions, 100, 125, 332. 

Lange, Karl, on culture epoch theory, 187— 
188. 

Language in general, 358-382; the school 
and written, 122; and memory, 231; 
imitation and written, 322; develop- 
ment of thought and oral, 358-368; as 
selective, 367 ; social memory and 
written, 368-375 ; conservative efifects 
of, 368-369, 372-373; progressive effect 
of, 373-374; democratic effect of, 371— 
372; education in, 375-381. 

Latin and formal discipline, 283, 288- 
289. 

Laurie on liberal education, 535. 

Law of dynamogenesis, 149. 

Lay boards in control of education, 469- 
476. 

Lazarus on play, 384. 

Leadership, instinct of, 124, 126, 180. 

Learned ideal in education, 7-9, 15, 401. 

Learned class as priesthood, 122, 441; and 
social control, 442-445 ; and power of 
memory, 369-372 ; and accumulation of 
learning, 515-516. 

Learning, conditions of, 61-70, 85-96, 145- 
149; meaning of, 190-194; by trial and 
error, 190-208, 209; by ideas, 199; con- 
scious, 208-250 ; factors in conscious, 
208-215; by imitation, 319-320, 324- 
327- 

Le Conte on function of reproduction, 48. 

Lecture, method of, 274. 

Leisure as a basis of progress, 127; play 
and education for, 400-411, 424-425; 
occupations of, 567-568 : use and abuse 
of, 566-568; rise of, 566; education for, 
536-537, 566-569. 

Lessing on recapitulation, 164, 183. 

Letourneau on primitive adolescent culture, 
III, 117, 4S1. 

Levites as learned caste, 441. 

Liberal education as contrasted with vo- 
cational, 434-435, 437 ; as disciplinary, 
437~439; in the United States, 484; 
meaning of, 535-536; evolution of, 

536-540- 
Life cycles, 56-59. 

Life, conformity of school to, 265-266. 
Lincoln on democracy, 530. 
Literacy as demanded by Protestantism, 

446-447. 



Index 



589 



Liver fluke and alternation of generations, 

57-58. 
Localization as ideational readjustment, 

202-204. 
Locke on aim of education, lo-ii; on 

mental discipline, 289. 
Logic of habit and feeling, 205-206, 239; 

of cognition, 206, 243-249. 
Logical test of truth, 245-248. 
Lycurgus as imitator of the foreign, 357. 

M 

Macaulay and power of memory, 295. 

Make-believe and play, 384, 387, 392. 

Malthus and law of population, 42. 

Mann, Horace, and popular civic education, 
447. 551-552 ; and ideal of public schools, 
464. 

Manual training as discipline, 283. 

Marshall on recapitulation, 166-167. 

Materials of education, 434-439; accu- 
mulation of mental, 258-270. 

Mathematics and recapitulation, 185. 

Mathematical problems, 276. 

Mating instincts, 64, 103. 

M'Lennan on exogamy, 480. 

McMurry on type subjects, 259, 266; on 
deriving concepts from the concrete, 261 ; 
on the art of study, 279-280, 381. 

Medical education, rise of, 446, 548. 

Medicine as art of controlling wills, 543. 

Memorizing, training in, 301-305. 

Memory, discipHne of, 11 ; function of, 147, 
156-157; physical basis of, 147-148; 
development of, 204; as the basis of 
selection, 219; as based on concepts, 
230-232 ; as evaluated by judgment, 
258, 338; and imitation, 323, 338, 343; 
and language, 364-366, 368-375 ; of the 
will and language, 374. 

Mental discipline as aim of education, 9-12, 
15-16, 20, 22.. (See formal discipline and 
discipline.) 

Metamorphosis, 56, 58. 

Method in relating concepts to the concrete, 
264-266; in teaching standards, 266- 
269; in cultivating attitudes, 271-282. 

Meumann on training memory, 302. 

Milton on aim of education, 7-8. 

Minot on inertia of growth, 43. 

Monotheism, causes of, 504. 

Monroe, on disciplinary aim, 9-10, 289. 



Moral culture through play, 418-419; 
function of the school in regard to, 476- 
477; needof, 553-554, 564-565. 

Morgan on organic selection, 80. 

Motivation of school work, 402-404, 407- 
417. 

Motor adjustments and the attitudes, 271. 

Movement, function of, 34 ; conditions of, 
34-35 ; development of complexity of, 
93-94; and consciousness, 149-150. 

Miiller on recapitulation, 163, 165. 

Miiller, Max, on thought and language, 359. 

Miinsterberg on training in habits, 300- 
301, 307. 

N 

Nationalization of education, causes of, 

448-449 ; reasons for, 550. 
Natural consequences, punishment by, 404. 
Natural law, rise of the idea of, 346, 348, 

544. 547-548. 
Natural selection. (See selection.) 
Nature, education according to, 13. 
Neatness, training in, 304-306, 310-312. 
Negative education, 13-14, 274. 
Newton and the law of inertia, 31. 
Nominalism, 358, 365. 

O 

Oratory as independent culture, 443-444. 
Ordeals in primitive education, 11 7-1 18; 

and disciplinary education, 438; and 

selection of leaders, 481. 
Originality as a rational attitude, 211, 256; 

cultivation of, 270-274; and imitation, 

353 ; and play, 419-420. 
Orthogenesis, 82, 141 ; in ciJture of the 

reason, 253-254. 
Osborn on organic selection, 80. 
Ostwald on accustoming, 192. 



Pansophy, 8-9, 22. 

Parasitism, 36. 

Parental fosterage, 109-in. 

Parental training, iir-114, 124-126. 

Parental instinct, 176. 

Partial recall, 228-229, 262-263. 

Paul on literalism, 373. 

Paulsen on disciplinary education, 10. 

Pax Romana, 355. 



590 



Index 



Perception as ideational readjustment, 
200-208 ; Kantian theory of, 300. 

Perceptual readjustment, 198-208, 209, 
2ig-22o, 238-239. 

Persian education, 131 ; and play, 400. 

Persistent imitation, 326-327, 328. 

Perversion of instincts, 176-178. 

Pestalozzi on aim of education, 13-14, 20. 

Phenomena distinguished from noumena, 
507-508. 

Philosophy as independent culture, 443- 
444 ; of Renaissance, 440 ; rise of acade- 
mic, 505-508. 

Plato on aim of education, 3, 7 ; as separat- 
ing child from family, 463, 555 ; on 
differentiating selection, 481-482 ; on 
the academic ideal, 502, 507 ; on the 
control of the Good, 545. 

Platonism and Christianity, 444. 

Play, 383-426; and problems, 272-273; 
definition of, 383, 386, 408-409; child 
and adult, 383-388; theories of, 383- 
38s ; and work, 386-388, 395-396, 405- 
407, 408-410, 418-420; of animals, 396- 
397 ; of primitive men, 397 ; and religion, 
397-398; control of, 399, 404; as dis- 
appearing from learned education, 400- 
402 ; as returning thereto, 402-403 ; as 
a school motive, 407-417; organization 
and control of, 418-426; and art, 511; 
in democratic education, 565; need of 
education in, 567. 

Playgrounds, 421. 

Poetry as a device for memorizing, 369. 

Practical ideal as academic, 502, 529. 

Practical men and their attitude toward the 
academic, 513-514. 

Precocity, danger of, 175, 178-180. 

Prescription, function of, 491. 

Prestige and imitation, 344. 

Primitive men and play, 397. 

Printing, democratic effect of, 372. 

Private education and conservatism, 460- 
461. 

Privileged classes as just in government, 
544. (See castes.) 

Problems and the cultivation of rational 
attitudes, 272-282. 

Process as related to product in education, 
255- _ 

Professional man, meaning of, 538-539, 
541-542- 

Professional education, rise of, 541. 



Protective adaptations, 33, 51, 63. 

Protestantism and Uteracy, 446. 

Psychical environment, 36-39; and imi- 
tation, 339; and language, 363. 

Psychological relations, 260, 262-263. 

Psychologist's fallacy, 28. 

Public school, English, and disciplinary 
education, 438 ; and play, 400. 

Purpose, imitation and the consciousness 
of, 336-337- 

Pythagoras and foreign culture, 357. 

R 

Race adaptation, 72-73. 

Rational education, rise of, 134-135 ; pos- 
sibility of, 251; and the differentiation 
of the school, 433. 

Rationality and imitation, 351, 357-358; 
and language, 359-368. 

Rational test of truth, 340. 

Ratzel on ability of various races, 134. 

Ratzenhofer on rise of classes, 118. 

Realism in education, 9, 20 ; and humanism, 
436- 

Reason, function of, 40 ; rise of, 206 ; de- 
scription of, 209, 249-250; education of, 
251-282; training of and formal dis- 
cipline, 283-284, 308-309; in control of 
sanctions, 348-350. 

Recapitulation, definition of, 143 ; in gen- 
eral, 163-189; psycho-physiological, 
163-168, 169-182; cultural, 163, 169, 
183-189; necessity of, 165-166; ex- 
ceptions to, 166-169, 184-185; accord- 
ing to faculties, 170-173; according to 
instincts, 173-183; desirability of com- 
plete, 174-182. 

Recapitulatory education, 96-98; as con- 
trasted with rational education, 251. 

Recognition as ideational readjustment, 
201-202. 

Recreation theory of play, 384-385. 

Reflex acts, evolution of, 93-94. 

Reformation and the aim of education, 7. 

Rein on formal steps, 264. 

Rejuvenation, 43, 51, 53-61, 63, 73, no. 

Religion, social function of, 11 9-1 21; and 
play, 397-398 ; transformed from practi- 
cal to academic, 503-505. 

Religious education, function of the school 
in reference to, 476-477 ; absorption of 
the school in, 445. 



Index 



591 



Renaissance ideal of education, 4-7, 9-10, 
19, 168; and disciplinary education, 
288 ; and imitation, 356 ; and liberal cul- 
ture, 435, 446 ; and rise of science, 446 ; 
schools and state and private support 
and control, 449 ; ideal of secondary 
education, 493 ; on scientific method, 
547- 

Reproduction, function of, 48-61. 

Resourcefulness, 209; factors in, 211-212. 

Resources, accumulation of mental, 258- 
270. 

Ribot on irradiation of feelings, 196; on 
creative imagination, 223. 

Right, rise of the idea of, 340-341, 349-350. 

Ritterakademien, 398. 

Rivalry in games, 390, 392-393; age of, 

394- 

Roman education and discipline, 439. 

Romanes on consciousness and readjust- 
ment, 150. 

Romans and military control, 441 ; and 
study of law, 446. 

Roosevelt and critical temper, 213; and 
general power of will, 295. 

Rosenkranz on training vcisus education, 
27; on development of the faculties, 
170-171. 

Rousseau on the aim of education, 13, 20; 
on the state of nature, 1 23 ; on recapitu- 
lation, 154, 174; on negative education, 
274 ; on education by play, 403-404, 406, 
410. 

Royce on consciousness and readjustment, 
150. 

Rudiger on training in neatness, 306. 



Sanctions, 345-35°. 

Schiller on theory of play, 384. 

Scholasticism as secular learning, 446. 

School, rise of, 122, 370-371, 430-433; 
devotion to language of, 375 ; evolution 
of, 440-477 ; diflferentiation of, 440-451 ; 
independence of, 451-467 ; interde- 
pendence with society of, 468-477 ; func- 
tion of, 478-501; definition of, 478; 
length of day of, 423-424; as social 
center, 425-426. 

Science and recapitulation, 184-188; and 
formal discipline, 292-293; rivalry of 
pure and applied, 514-515- 



Scientific and historic records, 379-381. 

Seasonal changes, adaptations for, 32-33, 
50. 

Secondary education and discipline, 10; 
function of, 486-496, 560-561 ; at Re- 
naissance, 493 ; school in Europe, 484 ; 
phases of, 489 ; as preparatory for higher 
education, 494-496. 

Secret societies, tribal, 128-130. 

Secular learning, rise of, 446-448. 

Segmentary interconnections in nervous 
system, 67-71, 90-91. 

Selection, natural, 48, 54, 76-83, 109, 112- 
113, 120, 124, 132-134, 145, 165,480,544; 
as the method of learning, 78 ; kinds of, 
79 ; organic, 80-82 ; of social heredity, 
133; symbolic individual, 146, 189, 191; 
kinds of in conscious learning, 209-210; 
and originality, 216-219; in perceptual 
interpretation, 220-221 ; as shown in col- 
lege graduates, 287 ; and imitation, 320- 
321, 351; of the imitative, 319, 328, 
352 ; as the function of the school, 478- 
480; kinds of, by the school, 480, 483- 
484; of culture materials, 516-522; of 
educational ideals, 524-525. 

Self, concept of, 231; concept of, and 
language, 365, 368. 

Self-activity in culture of the reason, 273- 
282. 

Self-consciousness and imitation, 335-341- 

Self-reaUzation as aim of education, 12—16, 
20; meaning of, 527-528. 

Sensation as symbolism, 34-35- 

Sentence words, 361. 

Sex, effects of, 83. 

Silent areas in the brain, 232. 

Short cuts in recapitulation, 168. 

Skeptic etliics, 509. 

Slavery, origin and function of, 128, 129, 
130. 

Social control and education, 124-136, 
education in, 131-133, 432. 450, 536-539, 
541-548; and esoteric teaching, 455- 
456; and grading children, 480; not 
regarded as a vocation, 540-541. 

Social culture as aim of education, 4-7, 22 ; 
through play, 396, 404-405, 418-419; 
in liberal education, 564-565. 

Social environments, 36-39, 41. 

Social heredity, meaning of, 97-98; evo- 
lution of, 109-115, 124. 130, 133-134; 
in. individual development, 142, 152; in 



592 



Index 



recapitulation, i68-i6g, i8i ; and imi- 
tation, 341 ; and language, 366-367 ; the 
school as improving, 433 ; as determined 
by the school, 496-501 ; as determining 
advantages, 550, 558. 

Social instincts, 36-39. 

Socialization by education, 116-122, 131- 
132; by imitation, 318-321, 332-341, 
345-348. 352-353; by play, 395, 397- 
398, 418-419. 

Social me, 337-338- 

Social pressure in the school, 413—414. 

Socrates and generalization, 267 ; and 
method of development, 274 ; on study of 
science, 547. 

Solomon on conservation of energy and free 
will, 28. 

Solon and written law, 372. 

Sophist as independent of the governing 
class, 443, 453. _ 

Sparta and infanticide, 481. 

Spartan education, 131 ; use of play, 399; 
disciplinary education, 441 ; military 
education of, 441, 458. 

Specialization, rise of, 49S, 515. 

Specific discipline, 305. 308-313. 

Spelling matches, 403. 

Spencer on aim of education, 17 ; on repro- 
duction, 42 ; on consciousness and read- 
justment, 150; on science and discipHne, 
292 ; on theory of play, 384 ; on laissez 
faire in education, 459-461, 499. 

Spiritual culture as aim of education, 2-4, 
IS, 19, 22; environment, i8. 

Standards in judgment, 212, 214, 241-249; 
teaching of 266-269 >" learned by imi- 
tation, 337-340- 

State and education, 430 ; and school con- 
trol, 442-466. 

Stentor, action system of, 86-87. 

Stoic philosophy and Christianity, 444 ; 
ethics, 509. 

Study, training in, 274-282 ; of the foreign, 
35^357- 

Stratton on unconscious elements in per- 
ception, 204. 

Struggle for existence of subjects and cul- 
tures, 497. 

Substitution in fighting instincts, 103. 

Sully on transference of feelings, 196. 

Superiority, education and mental, 287. 

Superstition, function of, 120— 121, 456. 

Surplus energy theory of play, 384-385. . 



Sutherland on evolution of sympathy, 102 ; 

on growth of parental care, no. 
Synapsis, 43, 91. 



Tarde on imitation, 318, 342, 352. ^^K ! 

Taste, need of purifying, 569. ^B ■ 

Teleology and education, i, 28 ; study of, 
151 ; as basis of practice, 545-547. 

Thompson on reproduction, 48. 

Thorndike on imitation among animals, 
112, 328; on learning among animals, 
154, 159; on transfer of practice, 294- 
296; on elimination of pupils from 
school, 482, 489. 

Titchener on the aggregate idea, 249. 

Total recall, 262-263. 

Training, effect of, on bilaterally symmet- 
rical parts, 296-297. 

Transfer of practice, 296-309. 

Translation as a problem of reason, 276-277. 

Travel and spread of culture, 356. 

Trial and error learning, 144-147, 154- 
iSSi 190-208. 

Types as the subject matter of teaching, 
259, 264, 266. 

U 

Unearned increments opposed by educa- 
tion, 554-557- 

Uniform environments, 32-33. 

University, study of law and medicine in 
mediaeval, 2, 446; charter as a source of 
independence, 448-449 ; of Paris, 449 ; 
state, 464; appointment of rector in 
German, 470; as the home of research, 
500-501. 

Utilitarianism in aim of education, i, 16, 
18-24; of early religion, 503; of early 
philosophy, 506; of early ethics, 508; 
of early art, 510; warfare on, 509-510; 
lack of in students, 531-533 ; in relation 
to ideal values, 523-533. 

Utility as a school motive, 414-415 ; higher, 
527- 



Vacations, rise of, 566-567. 

Values, knowledge of, 241-249. 

Variability and education, 31-32, 37, 40, 
46-47; sources of, 31, 35, 37, 38; peri- 
odic and unperiodic, 54-56; in environ- 
ments, 32-41, 72-73, 81-82; and mental 



hidex 



593 



power, 210, 223-225 ; and rationality, 
252 ; control of, 253-254. 

Variation, cause of, 74-75, 78-85, 153, 176, 
180-181 ; in social heredity, gS, 134-135, 
142-143 ; and racial progress, 144 ; in 
recapitulation, 166-169; from imitation, 
339. 342, 344-345 ; and state control of 
schools, 458, 463 ; and selection in 
values, 524-525. 

Verbalism, 9, 375-378. 

Verworn on seasonal adaptations, 33. 

Vocation, play as preparatory for, 386, 395- 
396, 407 ; as related to the avocation, 
386-388; and education, 431; helping 
the child to select, 485-486; education 
for, 538-539- 

Vocational instruction as contrasted with 
liberal studies, 434-435 ; as based on 
science, 447 ; as higher education, 491 ; 
given in secondary schools, 494-495 ; 
evolution of, 540-549; need of, 560-561. 

Volkmann on effects of training, 296. 

Voltaire on religion and social control, 119. 

Voluntary imitation, 328-329. 

Von Baer on recapitulation, 161, 163. 

W 

Wants as related to growth, 28-31 ; evo- 
lution of, 41-47 ; as factors in learning. 



86, 88-89, 99; as determined by the 
school, 521-522. 
War as an agency to spread culture, 

355- 
Washington on education in a democracy, 

551- 

Webster on primitive adolescent culture, 
117, 128, 129. 

Weismann on inheriting acquired charac- 
ters, 73 ; on effects of sex, 83. 

Winch on training the memory, 303. 

Wolf on mental discipline, 10. 

Woodward on Erasmus and education, 6. 

Woodworth on transfer of practice, 297 ; 
on imageless thought, 365. 

Work and problems, 272-273 ; as distinct 
from play, 386-388, 408-412; educa- 
tional value of, 395-396, 397. 40O"40i, 
409-412, 418-420. 



Youmans on mental discipline, 288-289. 



Ziehen on irradiation of feelings, 196. 
Ziller on culture epochs, 165, 183-186. 



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